


Daughter of Anarchy

by sarcastic_fina



Series: The Multiships of One Chloe Sullivan [19]
Category: Smallville, Sons of Anarchy
Genre: AU, Crossover, F/M, addiction (mother), chloe gets a whole new history from birth, mental illness (mother), she fits surprisingly well with bikers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-01-04 17:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 53,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1083620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarcastic_fina/pseuds/sarcastic_fina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chloe Sullivan-Winston, bastard child of Piney, grew up under the feet of SAMCRO's biggest and baddest. She walked the line of good and bad, alongside her half-brother Opie and his best friend Jax. Calling some of the meanest bikers 'uncle,' she grew up avoiding her mentally ill mother while she learned how to shoot guns, fix bikes, and shark pool. The first eighteen years of her life, Chloe called Charming, California her home, the club house her safe haven, and SAMCRO her family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Amazing fic poster made by [dhfreak](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary), so leave some love on her Tumblr!!

[ ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary)

 

 **Part One**.

_July 29, 1979_

Moira Carter was exhausted. After sixteen hours of intense labor, she could hardly keep her eyes open. It was worth it though, even if the tiny bundle of joy was not made from the best of circumstances. A part of her couldn't help but wonder if she would have moved to Charming had she known that she would end up here just one year later. Her newborn baby was hardly an hour old and she was already wondering if she was worth it.

Moira was young, just twenty-three, and she honestly hadn't expected to be having a baby, let alone with a married man fifteen years her senior. But it had happened. Thanks to a night of drinking and stress relief; she'd gotten herself tangled up with the wrong man at the wrong time. And now what did she have to show for it? A poor excuse for a job in a small, judgmental town, with a baby who would need a lot more than she could provide. Not for the first time since she found out she was pregnant, she seriously considered putting her daughter up for adoption. Not because she didn't love her or want her, but because she just didn't think she could give her what she needed.

But then, like a prayer answered by God, or, probably more likely, the  _devil_ , she heard the familiar clomp of boots coming down the hallway toward her hospital room.

Even knowing how strained the situation was, it didn't stop Moira from rolling her eyes, her lip curled in a sneer, as she demanded, "What are  _you_  doing here?"

Piermont Winston, better known as Piney, didn't even offer a flinch. "Got a call at the club, said you went into labor…" He cast his eyes around until they fell on the hospital-issue bassinet. His every footstep echoed as he made his way toward it. A tiny baby, wrapped in a pink blanket, her skin a bright, mottled red, stared up at him, her lips puckered. She didn't show any signs of her parents yet, no distinct features that set her apart as his or Moira's daughter, but she was beautiful.

"What'd you name her?"

It took a minute for Moira to put her anger aside and answer him; it was no secret that she hated every second spent in his presence. But, looking on at the bassinet, where Piney's hand had disappeared inside to trace the soft cheek of their daughter, she relaxed slightly. Maybe it was the obvious affection he showed, something she could definitely relate to, that encouraged her to answer him plainly rather than offer up a sharp-tongued barb. "Chloe."

Piney noticed the little information card then, stuck to the side of the bassinet, and read it through. He nodded agreeably at her middle name, "Anne," and smiled at her birth weight of 8 pounds, 7 ounces. For as tiny as she looked, she was healthy. A year and a half earlier, he was standing in a room just like this, only it was his wife Mary in the bed, not Moira, a woman he'd had an affair with nine months ago, drunk on too much whiskey and dumber than usual. He knocked her up in the process and neither Mary nor Moira saw fit to forgive him for it.

Mary was at home now, taking care of their son Harry; no doubt she knew where Piney was and he'd be hearing about it later. While he and Moira were a one-night mistake, she was the mother of his daughter, and Piney didn't turn his back on his kids, born out of his marriage or not. So Chloe would always have her dad in her life, no matter who wanted different. He smiled down at his little girl and promised her the world.

* * *

_August 19, 1979_

The club was loud with shouting, laughter, and music; it only made Piney smile wider as he approached. He passed by the long line of shiny Harley's and climbed the dusty steps to the porch outside the clubhouse, pausing just outside the thick, wood door, the noise inside reverberating against it. Much as it sounded like chaos was reining supreme inside, he felt the nostalgic sense of home that always hit him when he returned to the club.

Turning his head down, he peered at the small bundle he held. His daughter lay in the crook of his arm, a black tuque on her head with a white reaper stitched across it. Her tiny fingers squeezed at air, like she was trying to find something and hold on with all her might. He offered her a finger and she latched onto it, her tiny fingers curling just above one of his silver rings.

This was the first time since Chloe was born that Moira let him take her out; she'd been keeping the baby at home with her since she left the hospital and she wasn't too keen on him having any rights at all, let alone an hour or two to show his daughter off. But here he was, and it was probably only because Moira was dead tired. She didn't have any family in Charming, having only moved over a year earlier. Piney counted his blessings and took what he could get, convincing Moira to take a nap while he watched the squirt.

"You ready to meet the boys?" he asked, looking down at his curious, wiggly daughter.

She opened her mouth in a wide 'O' and then closed it abruptly; he took that as a resounding yes.

Pushing the door open with his shoulder, he backed his way inside. The music so loud he couldn't hear himself think. Some of the boys were playing pool, a few were entertaining some eager women, but the majority were just hanging out, drinking beer, trading conversation. Piney crossed the floor until he was in clear view of everyone and gave a long, sharp whistle to draw their attention. Seeing what was happening, Tig reached over to turn off the music.

Quieting down, the boys turned to him expectantly.

"I wanna introduce you assholes to the next Winston…" He pointed down at the baby in his arm with his thumb. "This here's Chloe."

Loud cheering went up and the men all crowded around to see her.

Rather than get disturbed by the loud noises, the cloying smells, and the unfamiliar faces, Chloe merely looked around at them all curiously.

One of his oldest and closest friends, a fellow founder and the president of SAMCRO, John Teller came up next to him then, clapping Piney on the back as he smiled down at the little girl. Having just had a son of his own, Jackson, a little over a year back, he understood the pride that came with it. "She's a cute one, Pine. You didn't do half-bad."

"Yeah, she'll be a heartbreaker," he mused.

As he passed her around to his closest friends, his brothers in arms, he knew he was right. As soon as Chloe was brought into the club house, the men of SAMCRO fell in love with her. Maybe it was the fact that she was the only innocent one of out of the lot, or that she was still full of so much potential; whatever the reason, she was a daughter of SAMCRO and she always would be.

* * *

_December 2, 1979_

"There's my princess," Tig greeted, kneeling down in front of the baby carrier, where Chloe laid quietly, Lenny close by to keep an eye on her while Piney talked shop with John.

"Look what Uncle Tig brought you, huh?" He held up a tiny denim vest for her. "We'll get you a patch, nice reaper on the back, right? You'll fit right in."

Chloe sucked on her fingers while her other hand reached out for him, squeezing at random.

Chuckling, he brought the vest closer for her, letting her grab it, touching the fabric curiously.

"Where the hell'd you get one that small?" Lenny wondered, taking a seat on a chair beside them.

"I got connections." Tig shrugged. "Know some people, got a sweat shop a few counties over… They'll make anything."

Lenny snorted. "Just what the kid needs… a vest on her back by slaves you probably paid with the change in your pocket."

Clicking his tongue, he dismissed Lenny and turned the vest around so he could see the back. "What d'you think? We could have  _D_ AMCRO written on the back, right? She'll be the first Daughter of Anarchy." He grinned.

Chloe kicked her feet and let out a happy shriek.

"See? She likes it!"

Lenny rolled his eyes. "She's four months old. She laughs at everything. See? Watch!" Digging out his keys, he dangled them in front of the baby, who followed them with her eyes, smacking her lips and drooling.

Tig frowned at him and stood up. "Not the same. She likes the cut." He nodded, his brow furrowed. As he wandered off with it, Lenny looked back at Chloe, crossing his thickly muscled arms over his chest.

"Congratulations kid, you'll be in the MC before any of our prospects."

She let out a loud, happy laugh, and he grinned back at her.

* * *

_May 12, 1980_

"What the hell is this?" Piney demanded, waving the thick papers he'd been served not a half hour ago in Moira's face.

She leaned back against the park bench and scowled at him. "A petition to change Chloe's name, what does it look like?"

Grinding his teeth, he shouted back, "Bullshit you're changing her name!" He stabbed a finger toward the 9 month old baby, who was currently in and out of sleep, her eyes drowsily trying to close, only to fly open a second later as she cast her green eyes around curiously. "That girl's a Winston. I don't care if you found yourself a husband. That guy ain't my daughter's daddy!"

"Well, he's going to be," she yelled back. "Chloe needs a good man in her life, a real father figure, not some biker  _idiot_  I can't guarantee will be around to see her grow up." Standing from the bench, she gripped the stroller handlebar and pushed the papers at Piney. "I'll go through the courts if I have to, but I don't think you want that kind of attention." Her hard stare cut into him. "Chloe will be a Sullivan, just like me and just like Gabe. I don't care what  _you_ want." She started pushing the stroller away, calling over her shoulder, "Sign the papers, Piney!"

Growling under his breath, he balled them up and threw them as far as he could, cursing under his breath before he stomped off toward where he'd left his bike parked.

He would sign, eventually, because Moira was right, he couldn't have anybody looking into his life or history and especially not at SAMCRO, which is exactly what she would tell them to do. It didn't matter what Chloe's last name was, everybody knew she was his. She'd always be a Winston at heart.

* * *

_January 9, 1983_

"I don't want her here," Mary argued, slamming the cupboards as she moved around her kitchen.

"She's three years old, Mar; she doesn't even know why you hate her. She wants to be here for Harry's birthday and she should be," Piney argued.

"If she's young enough not to know why I don't want her here, she's young enough to forget I told her not to come," she spat back angrily.

"Harry wants her here," he reminded. "He loves his little sister, you know that."

Mary stopped, bracing her hands on the counter as a pot of spaghetti sauce steamed away at her right. Finally, turning to glare at him, she yelled, "I don't want your bastard kid at our son's birthday party. I don't care how much he loves her! It's disrespectful Piney, and I won't have it in my home!"

He ground his teeth and took a few steps toward her, scowling when she cringed, pushing herself back against the counter, unsure of his anger. Waving a finger in her face, he said, "Chloe's coming to the party tomorrow. Harry wants her there, I want her there, so she's coming… And don't call her a bastard again, Mary." His eyes flashed angrily. "You wanna hate someone, you hate me, but you don't take it out on her." As he turned to leave, he muttered, "She three goddamn years old for Christ's sake."

Chloe was allowed to come to the birthday party and, even Mary had to admit, it was cute to see her five year old son walk around holding Chloe's hand the entire party, proudly introducing her to everyone he saw.

* * *

_August 15, 1983_

The earliest memory Chloe had was from when she was four years old. The other things, the years before that, were fragments and feelings, nostalgia from smells but no idea why. But when she was four, a memory formed that she never forgot.

She was eating a Popsicle, the warm California sun beating down on her. She'd traded in the pink dress her mother had put out for her to wear for her favorite neon yellow shorts and a striped, green t-shirt with a cartoon duck on the front. The sound of power tools was loud, but it didn't frighten her any. She was used to the sights, smells, and sounds of Teller-Morrow Auto. Currently, her only point of focus was the shiny motorcycle in front of her. Sitting on an overturned plastic milk crate, she observed the way the sun hit the turquoise gas tank.

It was John Teller's bike she was admiring, leaning heavy against the side stand, much of the silver polished nice and bright. She liked the color Uncle JT's was; her dad's was just plain black and silver.

"Dad said, when I'm older, he'll let me drive it," came a familiar voice.

Chloe turned, blinking against the sharp sun and found Jackson, JT's son, not far away. He walked over, his own orange Popsicle half eaten, his fingers sticky with the melted juice, and took a seat on the ground next to her. He rested an elbow on the extra space of milk crate and eyed his father's bike appreciatively.

"One day, I'm gonna be just like my dad," he told her reverently. "I'm gonna be SAMCRO and I'm gonna have the best bike and I'll get all the patches for my cut, too."

Chloe rested her chin on her hand, her elbow on her knee, and looked down at him thoughtfully.

Jackson was grinning lopsidedly, an orange ring stain around his lips, and his blond hair tangled around his shoulders. He was what her mom always called a wild child, but Chloe thought he just liked to have fun.

"Are you gonna run the club like JT too?" she wondered.

He shrugged. "I dunno… Doesn't matter." He looked up at her, one of his eyes closed against the sun. "We're all brothers, right?"

She tipped her head thoughtfully. "Is Harry gonna be SAMCRO?"

He nodded happily. "We're gonna be friends forever. We'll be watch each other's backs, just like our dads!"

Chloe pursed her lips in a frown. "Well if Harry's SAMCRO, then I wanna be too."

Jax laughed, shaking his head. "You can't. It's for boys."

"That's stupid," she declared, pouting irritably. She licked her Popsicle so it'd stop dribbling and glared at the bike in front of her. "I'm gonna ride a bike and get a cut too; I don't care if I'm a girl… Harry's  _my_ brother and you can't have him."

"SAMCRO means we're brothers. That's the rules!"

Chloe harrumphed. "That's not fair! He was mine first and I don't  _wanna_  share!"

Sighing, he sat back, and for a few minutes, they passed the time just eating their Popsicles. She was startled when he sat up suddenly, struck with an idea.

"I got it!"

She frowned at him. "Got what?"

He turned to look at her, grinning proudly. "What if when we're old, you and me get hitched! You'll be my old lady and then you'll be Harry's sister again!"

She gave it a second's thought before declaring, "That's dumb!"

Jax's smile faded. "How come?"

"I don't wanna marry you. I just want Harry. He's  _my_ brother and I won't let you or SAMCRO or anybody have him."

"Well, that's mean, and you're being selfish."

Hopping up from her milk cart, Chloe glared at Jax, her hands fisted angrily. And then, with all the spite of a four year old, she threw her Popsicle at Jax and stomped off, shouting over her shoulder. "I'll never be your old lady, Jackson Teller!"

Wearing her pink Popsicle on his shirt, he frowned after her. "I don't wanna mean wife anyway!"

Stomping her foot, she ran off, grumbling under her breath as she went, so angry that she felt like crying. She honestly thought that Jax was going to steal her brother and then Harry wouldn't be hers anymore. He wouldn't play with her or talk to her or anything. Frustrated, she kicked a beer bottle that got into her way and went inside the club house. Ignoring everybody else she went straight to her dad, who was sitting down sharing a beer with JT.

Face flushed from her anger, she stared up at the two men until they noticed her.

"Your son is mean and you can't have Harry!" she declared.

JT and Piney stared at her, confused.

"What's happening?"

"What's this got to do with Jackson?"

"Jax is a big mean jerk. And Harry can't be SAMCRO, 'cause you can't have him, 'cause he's  _mine!"_

The two men exchanged a look and then returned to looking at the little girl in front of them. With a sigh, Piney brought her up into his lap. "All right, kid, explain what happened…"

Taking a deep breath, she prepared to do just that. Ten minutes later, they were smiling at her indulgently.

"It's okay, Chloe," JT reassured. "Harry will  _always_ be your brother."

Worriedly, she wondered, " _Really?_ "

He nodded, grinning gently at her. "If he wants to be SAMCRO later, that's fine, he'll be a brother of this club, but that doesn't mean he won't still be yours."

"Nobody's trying to take him away from you," Piney promised.

She looked away thoughtfully before brightening as she said, "So I don't have to marry Jackson?"

They laughed lightly at her.

"No, kid. You won't be anybody's old lady." Piney frowned protectively. " _Ever_."

Shrugging, she said, "Okay," before she left his lap and happily skipped over to the pool table to see what Tig and Keith were up to. She put the whole thing out of her head, dismissing it now that her fears were put to rest. She would always be Harry's sister, no matter what, and that's all she cared about.

Although, she did appreciate it when Jax found her an hour later and gave her a new Popsicle to replace the one she threw at him.

* * *

_February 12, 1984_

One of Chloe's favorite places to be was in her dad's side car. She had her own helmet and everything.

Piney picked her up that Sunday morning at the same time he always did, 9 am sharp. Chloe ran out the front door smiling, ignoring the way her mom shouted after her to wear her seatbelt and keep her arms in the car and, "Damn it, Piney, get a real car!" She happily hopped into her seat and let her dad do her seatbelt up for her while she put on her goggles and reached for the strap on her black helmet, a white reaper painted on the front. Bouncing in her seat, she eagerly awaited the ride.

The drive from her house to Pat's diner wasn't long, so Piney always took a different route, one that circled city limits. He grinned at her every time he looked over to see her enjoying herself. The whiz of the air passing by mixing with the growl of the Harley made her heart skitter with appreciation.

When they finally pulled into the diner, she was breathless. He helped her out of the side car and followed her slowly, in no hurry to get inside. Chloe was alive with energy though, skipping circles around him, running a few feet ahead and then backing up to fall against his legs, giggling to herself before she repeated the whole process. Piney, in his leather chaps and denim cut, looked on fondly at his playful daughter.

He caught her around the waist and hauled her up onto his shoulder, smiling as she shrieked, and walked them inside, nodding hello to the cashier before he walked down the aisle toward a booth looking out on the parking lot. He dropped Chloe down on one side, taking his own seat across from her as she righted herself, brushing her blonde hair out of her face and reaching for the menus, handing him one while she consulted hers.

The waitress stopped at their table with a glass of orange juice for Chloe and a mug of steaming coffee for Piney; their drink order never changed.

Kneeling on her seat, Chloe sucked her orange juice through a straw and looked at each of the pictures on the menu before finally deciding which she wanted and pointing at it.

A small stack of silver dollar chocolate chip pancakes stared back and Piney nodded agreeably, while he got a bigger breakfast for himself with ham, sausage and bacon.

Taking her seat properly after the waitress left, Chloe clasped her heads on the table and rested her chin on them, watching her dad thoughtfully as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, letting it dangle from his lips. He was a handsome man; tall with broad shoulders, intense blue eyes, and long, sandy brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. Three patches were stitched onto his cut; the two on the left read Redwood and Original, while the one on the right read First 9. Harry took after him quite a bit, while Chloe took more after her mom.

"How's home been?" her dad wondered, taking a drag off his cigarette.

She shrugged her shoulders high. "Mom wants to put me in a dance class. She said I should take ballet…" Her eyes turned away. "Gabe says it costs too much."

Piney nodded, staring at her a long moment. "What about you?"

She gave it some thought, wondering if she wanted to be in ballet or not. "Ballerinas are pretty."

He hummed before blowing out a cloud of smoke. " _You're_ pretty," he told her simply. "You don't need to be a ballerina for that… But I'll pay for you to go if you want to." He winked at her. "Just say the word."

Grinning at him, she shrugged, moving over to sip her orange juice again. Smacking her lips when she was done, she told him, "I think you're pretty too."

He laughed deeply from his belly and Chloe sat back, smiling proudly.

When their breakfast arrived, they traded conversation as they ate. Chloe told stories about Harry and Jackson while Piney nodded, humming to encourage her to keep talking. His daughter was a chatterbox; he was sure she got that from her mother and not him. And when the dishes were taken away, they still sat, with him nursing another cup of coffee while she went on and on about how Harry was  _always_ with Jackson, and what was so great about him anyway, and Harry should be in ballet with her, because he had hair just as long as hers and he was pretty too. But Jackson couldn't come, she decided.

The jealousy thing? That she got from her dad.

* * *

_April 14, 1984_

Chloe dragged her bag behind her, letting it bump against the back of her legs as she went, her head down and her lips pursed in a frown. Her pink leotard and tutu made her feel silly suddenly; it was too attention getting when all she wanted to do was fade into the background. The other girls walked behind her, all four, five, and six year olds. Some bigger, some smaller, some the same size. They all had their hair tied up in a ponytail or braided down their backs. Chloe felt silly about her pigtails suddenly and tugged on the end of one.

She stopped in the front foyer and searched for one of her parents; she just wanted to go home. It was usually her dad who picked her up from ballet, but since he occasionally got busy with the club, her mom or Gabe sometimes came to get her. She searched and searched but didn't set eyes on any one of them. Her mom's familiar black hair and bright green eyes were absent, her dad's towering frame donning the SAMCRO cut wasn't there to comfort her. Finally, she leaned back against a wall, sighing.

Some of the other girls passed her by, looking over at her and giggling behind their hands before they all started whispering to each other.

Chloe felt her face go bright red and kicked at her bag, turning her eyes away. As the parents all talked, so did their daughters. She could feel their eyes on her, their pointing and staring and the hurtful words she imagined they were saying. It seemed to take forever, but finally, each of the other girls was taken home by their respective parent until only Chloe remained.

It was getting dark out and she nervously looked over at her ballet teacher, a strict woman who kept sighing every few minutes, obviously tired and desperate to go home.

Just then, the door flew open, a bell jingling above it, and Chloe looked over, slumping with relief at seeing a familiar face.

Gemma Teller walked in, all swaying hips and confidence, which was only slightly hindered by the four month old baby she carried. She nodded at Chloe and offered a wry grin. "Hey, sweetheart, sorry I'm late. Your dad asked me to pick you up, said he couldn't make it. Short notice club stuff, you know?"

Shrugging, Chloe grabbed up her bag and hurried toward the door. She didn't wave at her teacher, who just looked happy to lock up and go, instead she kept her head down and followed Gemma out to her car. She was relieved to see Jackson wasn't with her, and waited quietly as Gemma strapped her son Tommy in to the seat next to Chloe before climbing back into the driver's seat. She glanced at her in the rearview mirror before turning the ignition and pulling her car out of the parking lot, leaving the small ballet studio behind.

Chloe felt a surge of relief at being away from it and slumped in her seat. She stared out the window, watching buildings and houses pass by, wishing she could see her dad before she had to go home. Or at least Harry, he always made her feel better.

It was a few minutes of silent company before Gemma wondered, "What's wrong, honey? You're usually talking my ear off…"

Instead of replying, she merely shook her head.

"Come on, you know you can tell me." Gemma drew an X on her chest. "Cross my heart, I'll keep your secrets." She winked at her.

Chloe bit her lip but finally admitted, "I don't wanna do ballet anymore."

"No?" Her brows rose slightly. "How come?"

She looked away, shrugging. Playing with the edges of her tutu, she rubbed the fabric between her fingers. "The other girls don't like me…"

Gemma was quiet for a moment. "Yeah? Why do you think that?"

Chloe blinked as tears bit at her eyes, burning. "They make fun of me… They laugh at me and whisper and they won't let me sit with them." She shrugged. "Nobody wanted to be my partner." Reaching up, she rubbed a fist against her eye to swipe away her tears. "They said I was weird, and daddy was a bad person, and I shouldn't be there."

"Those little bitches," Gemma muttered. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and abruptly pulled her car over to the curb. Turning in her seat, she stared at Chloe seriously. "Listen up and listen close… You're gonna meet a lot of people in your life and some of them are going to be grade-A jerks! They're not all going to like you and you're not going to like all of them. Case in point…" She nodded at her. "You like any of those girls who were mean to you?"

She frowned, taking a second before she shook her head. "They were mean." Slumping in her seat, she sighed. "I wish Harry wanted to be a ballerina."

Gemma's lips twitched. "Yeah, well, I don't think that wish is coming true anytime soon…"

Chloe scowled.

"Listen, kid, if there's one thing I know it's that you can't rely on anybody else, especially not a man… You want something in this life, you gotta  _take_  it. And don't wait around for somebody else to tell you to or to drive the get-away car." She shook her head. "Harry's not going to be there forever. You've gotta stand on your own two feet sometime, so why not now?" Gemma raised an eyebrow. "You like ballet?"

She considered the question. Truth be told, yes, she loved dancing and her tutu and it was nice to have something that was all her own.

"Okay then." She nodded. "Be a ballerina then. Don't let those little girls tell you what you can and can't be. They don't get to decide. If you want to be a ballerina, you be the best damn one in the class. You show them that you're better than them and their petty bullshit. You don't need them! You don't need anyone but yourself!" She stared at her encouragingly. "Right?"

Chloe smiled slowly. "Right."

"So where are you going to be next Sunday?"

"Ballet class."

"And who's going to be the best ballerina Charming ever saw?"

" _Me!_ "

"That's right." Grinning smugly, Gemma turned back around to pull the car back onto the road. "Just dance your little ass off, Chloe. Everybody else, they don't matter. You do what you want, you don't let anyone tell you different, and you're gonna do just fine in this world."

Sitting back in her seat, feeling a lot better about the situation, Chloe smiled to herself.

She liked the way Gemma thought.

* * *

_September 4, 1984_

Chloe shifted her feet back and forth, tugging on the straps of her brand new backpack. "I don't want to," she murmured, looking worriedly at the kindergarten class filled with unfamiliar faces. "I wanna go back to the club…"

"You can't come back to the club right now," Piney said, kneeling down next to her. "You remember when Harry started school? How much you wanted to go too?"

She nodded, chewing her lip. "But Harry's not in my class…"

"No, but he's around the school. If you need him for anything, you can find him."

Her eyes fell and she glared at the runners her mom picked out for her. "How about I go to school tomorrow and I go to the club today…?" She looked up at him hopefully. "I won't tell momma, I promise."

He half-smiled, shaking his head. "You're almost too good at that puppy dog look, kid." With a sigh, he kissed the top of her head and stood, giving her a little nudge between her shoulders. "You're gonna do fine. Make some friends, learn the alphabet."

"I already know the alphabet," she huffed, pouting.

"Well, you still need friends."

" _Nu-uh!_  I don't need anybody!" Sticking her chin out, she added, "And besides, I've got Harry… And Jackson's all right." She rolled her eyes. It was no secret that Chloe was jealous of Jackson, if only because he was Harry's best friend. The only good thing was that this year Jax had a little brother now too, who he was spending a lot more time at home with, watching over him. But Tommy couldn't come to school, so that meant Jax would probably take up all of Harry's time, leaving none for her.

Amused, Piney simply grinned at her. "Get in there, Chloe. Show 'em how smart you are."

Sighing, she took a few steps forward. "You'll come get me after?"

He nodded. "I promised you ice cream, didn't I?"

She beamed then. "With sprinkles?"

"With whatever you want on top."

With an extra skip in her step, she hopped forward into the classroom; she wasn't looking forward to her first day of school, just what came after, but it was a start.

* * *

_August 24, 1985_

Chloe pushed against the heavy door of the club house with all her might, her shoulder pressed against the scratchy wood. She grunted at the exertion it took, before finally it swung open under her, easy as could be. She lit up happily, only to hear a chuckle behind her. Looking up, she saw a hand braced high above on the door, silver rings adorning his fingers. Tipping her head back further, she found her Uncle Tig grinning at her. A former marine, he was a feral looking man in his late-twenties, with springy black hair, a black goatee, and round blue eyes that always seemed to pop intensely.

"You s'pose to be here, half-pint?"

She grinned toothily.

Shaking his head, he nodded his chin for her to go ahead.

Racing forward, she darted behind the bar and grabbed out two cold bottles of beer from the fridge before she raced back out. She found her dad sitting on a couch, nodding his head to something Uncle Lenny was saying while Otto, who she always thought looked comically short compared to the others, especially Lenny, who was built like a tank, kept leaning forward, trying and failing to interrupt. Chloe hopped onto her dad's knee without warning and, before he could tell her to be careful, held a beer out for him.

With a half-grin, he took it, unscrewing the top and guzzling a good portion. He eyed the other bottle she held in the crook of her arm and wondered, "You startin' early, kid?"

She shook her head and then turned, holding the bottle out with both hands until Tig swaggered on by, heels of his heavy boots clicking, and took it, winking at her playfully.

"There's a good princess," he said, before wandering off to stand with Clay Morrow, who was getting his pool cue ready for a game.

"You always like the strange ones," her dad said, bumping her head with his nose affectionately.

Chloe shrugged. "Tig's funny."

"He's crazy," Otto told her, brows ticked up. He didn't say it like it was an insult but an observation.

Rolling her eyes, she frowned over at him. "I heard daddy call you 'L'il Killer'…" she reminded.

With a smirk, he told her, "We're  _all_ a little crazy."

She snorted and then wiggled her way off of Piney's knee. "Where's Jacky and Opie?" she asked, although she huffed a bit at the name. Her brother had recently decided that he didn't like the name Harry and wanted to be called Opie instead. For some reason, everybody thought it was a great idea. To Chloe's thinking, her brother, for all his gangly appearance of too long legs and arms, was actually half hair. She didn't think Mary had ever cut it, and it hung clear past his shoulders. "Harry" fit him just fine.

"They're shooting BB guns out back," her dad said, and started to warn her away from it, but she'd already turned on her heel to chase after them. "Don't get yourself shot out there, Chloe. Your mom'll never let me see you again."

"She already doesn't!" Chloe yelled back, never faltering in her steps.

The club laughed lightheartedly, with Otto jabbing a shoulder at Piney.

Chloe came to a quiet stop just behind Opie and Jackson, who weren't aiming their BB guns at the paper targets in the distance, but instead the empty bottles they'd nicked from inside.

"Did dad say you could do that?" she wondered.

Opie jumped, whirling around in surprise. "What the heck, Chloe? I could've shot you!"

"Not with your aim," Jackson snorted, grinning as he raised his gun and took a shot, hitting a brown bottle and knocking it off the oil drum it sat upon. He started pumping his gun again and turned to face them, one of his eyes closed against the sun. "What're you doin' out here, Chlo? Thought your mom said you couldn't visit the club house anymore…"

She shrugged. "I'm not visiting the club house, I'm visiting Ope," she answered defiantly.

Her brother shook his head, probably because he was tired of having Moira yell at him to stay away from her daughter, but Jackson laughed under his breath. "You're a real rebel… Bet you make Piney proud."

She looked over at her brother, who was more than a head taller than her. "Can I try?" she hoped, looking at the BB gun he held.

He took a step back and frowned. "No way. You'll probably take out an eye and your mom'll kill me. And then  _my_ mom will kill me 'cause I was around Moira long enough for her  _to_ kill me."

"Don't be such a baby," Chloe muttered. "Dad never complains this much and mom yells at him  _all the time_."

Opie shushed her and then looked around worriedly. "Don't say that so loud… If my mom finds out dad's seen Moira at all, she'll kill him in his sleep…"

"Mary never comes to the club house," she argued before moving over to them. "Come on, Opie,  _please!_ Just one shot!"

"Couldn't hurt," Jackson piped up.

Sighing, Opie glared at him and then turned around, holding his BB gun out for her.

Cheering, she hopped over excitedly and took it from him.

"Okay, now you gotta aim like this…" Adjusting it in her arms, Opie got her ready to take a shot, nervously standing next to her and looking around to make sure nobody saw. "Dad's gonna shoot  _me_  if he sees you."

She snorted. "Uncle Tig let me hold his gun last week."

"What? He doesn't even let me  _look_ at it!"

Laughing under her breath, she shrugged. "I'm cuter than you."

"Whatever," he muttered grumpily. "Just take your shot."

Chloe aimed at the bottle and took a deep breath in. She held it as she squeezed the trigger and then let it out on a whoop as she hit the bottle enough that it teetered. It didn't fall, but it was close enough.

Opie clapped for her, while Jackson grinned. "She did better than you on her first try, Ope."

"All right, all right, give it here," her brother said, reaching for the BB gun.

She let him take it, in part because she knew he'd let her try again. Her brother might try at being tough, but in the end he was a softy and he almost always gave in when it was Chloe asking. He was protective, sure, but he could also be a pushover. It was something she'd learned early on, when he'd give up playing with Jackson and instead sat and entertained her when she was too little to join him on the jungle gym. Opie, despite only being a year and a half older than her, acted like he was much older and had to keep her safe from everything. She didn't mind it much; in the end, he was her favorite person.

Lenny popped his head out back, tossing one finished cigarette from his lips and replacing it with another. For a man who paid so much attention to his health, she always thought it rather odd how much he smoked. Three packs a day, he went through them one after the other, but still looked to be in better health than anybody else in the club. A weight-lifter, Lenny was no slouch; in fact, he'd tried more than once to get Opie and Jax to try working out or lifting weights.

"Pack it up, you lot, time to come in," he called to them before heading back inside, his hulking frame disappearing from sight.

The sun was setting and Chloe knew she'd probably have to head home soon if she didn't want her mom storming the club house and kicking up a fuss like she had far too many times in the past. If she was lucky, she might send her step-dad instead, but she only did that if she was having a bad day or her episodes were worse.

Chloe chased after Opie and Jackson as they moved through the club, with Jax veering to the right, toward his mom, who was sitting on the edge of the pool table, her hand gripping JT's cut, pulling him in for a kiss, while Opie maneuvered around to find his dad, who'd moved to a stool by the bar and was talking with Wally.

Piney looked down at his son and then behind him to Chloe. "Get your sister home before Moira comes callin', and then get home yourself," he ordered.

Opie nodded and turned to leave, but Chloe hopped over, feet balanced on the middle rung of the stool and held her cheek up. With a laugh, Piney kissed it.

"Get outta here, kid. I'll see you tomorrow. We'll get breakfast at Pat's." He ruffled her hair affectionately before turning back to Wally.

Turning to leave, she grinned at Tig, behind the bar, as he held a hand out for her to high-five when she passed. She did so as hard as she could before turning on her heel and racing after Opie, who managed to get the door open just fine.

"Hurry up, I wanna go home. Mom's makin' chicken fingers for dinner!" he said over his shoulder.

Chloe ran right up behind him until she was close enough to leap, and landed on his back with a laugh. He grunted at the added weight, but caught her under her knees and gave her the piggyback ride she wanted. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she rested her chin on her elbow and observed the people and cars passing by her.

"What're you having for dinner?" Opie wondered.

She frowned thoughtfully. "I dunno. I think Gabe's bringing home something. Mom's been kinda weird, so she doesn't cook much."

He hummed and, after a minute, asked, "She still spacing out?"

"Yeah… Used to be for just a couple minutes, but it seems like longer now… Gabe says I should just go outside and play when she does, but… I dunno." Her mom's episodes were a topic she didn't always like to talk about. Piney didn't ask after them often, but Opie worried about them. Opie always worried.

"You should come find me when she does. We'll go to the park or something."

Chloe grinned. "Sure."

"I'm serious. What if she does something and she doesn't remember? Like, what if she hurts you?"

Her eyes fell for a moment before she shook her head. "No, she doesn't do anything. She just sits there and stares. And then, after a while, she just…  _wakes up_."

"I still don't like it."

"Well, tough cookies."

Chloe wiggled until he let her down and walked beside him instead. They weren't far from her place anyway, turning down the alley that would lead to her backyard.

After walking in silence for a while, he reached over and shoved her shoulder. Smiling, she shoved him back, and so they went, nudging and pushing each other the rest of the way, laughing as the other stumbled. It took longer than it should have to get to her yard, but it was fun. As they stopped outside her gate, she turned to say goodbye.

"Hey, bring me something back from Pat's. Dad always forgets."

"Pancakes with extra bacon," she said knowingly.

He nodded happily before turning to continue down the alley. His house was a few blocks over, but he knew a shortcut.

Turning on her heel, she locked the gate and raced across the backyard, hop-scotching as she went, before jumping up the stairs and making her way inside, happy that the screen door was open since it always squeaked when she pulled on it.

Her mom was in the living room, she could just make out the back of her head. As she got closer, she realized that her mom was staring blankly at the floor, her eyes a little wide. It would be a few minutes before she was out of it, so Chloe made her way to her bedroom, deciding that at least her mom's episode meant she wouldn't get in trouble for being at the club. Maybe there was an upside to the whole thing…


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing fic poster made by [dhfreak](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary), so leave some love on her Tumblr!!

[ ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary)

 

 **Part Two**.

_September 29, 1985_

Chloe leaned forward in her seat, watching JT as he considered the checkers board in front of him. He always took a while to make a move, considering every angle. Not like the other guys or her brother, who always took the most obvious move, certain they would win. JT was more strategic; he liked to think things through first. His fingers hovered over the board, twitching with consideration.

Chloe watched him, her feet kicking back and forth. She'd been struggling to find a way to bring something up since before the game started and she knew, if given long enough, she'd just end up blurting it out. Chloe focused on her pile of black checkers, making them perfectly straight. JT was down to his last three compared to her four, but she knew that didn't mean anything. He was a good opponent; he never went easy on her. Not like Keith, who always let her win before he ruffled her hair and told her she was too smart for him.

"Uncle JT?" she finally said.

"You're not gonna rush me now, are you?" he wondered, offering a smile.

She grinned, shaking her head.

"Good. Gemma gave up playing games with me. Love the woman, but she's damn impatient."

Chuckling under her breath, Chloe shrugged.

"What do you need then?" he wondered.

She struggled for a moment, not sure how to put it into words, until finally she said, "Opie said Otto died… He said he was found in the river…"

JT's humor faded into a solemn frown and he nodded at her. "Yeah… Otto's not with us anymore…"

"Somebody hurt him real bad and he died," she said. Not a question, but a statement.

Sitting back in his chair, he tapped his fingers against the arm. "Do you know what death is, Chloe? What it  _means_  to die?" he wondered.

She stared at him, her brow furrowed. "Mom said it's when an animal or a person has to go away. So the spirit left them and went away to heaven, but their body stays, so we can bury it, and have some place to go when we miss them."

He hummed thoughtfully. "What do  _you_  think it is?"

She frowned. "I think… I think sometimes they don't just go away… They get  _taken_ away… And it's not very nice or fun, it's really sad, and people miss them…" She shifted in her seat. "I miss Otto. I liked him." She half-smiled. "He showed me how to punch… He said I had a good right hook!"

JT's smile came back as he chuckled under his breath. "You know, Otto was a good fighter. He liked a good brawl. If you had to pick a teacher, he was a good choice."

Chloe nodded agreeably.

Sitting forward, JT finally moved his checker.

Four moves later, he beat her, but she didn't mind. She always felt like she learned something when they played games together.

* * *

_March 30, 1986_

Chloe loved Easter. Mostly because she got a bunch of candy, but also because of the Easter egg hunt. Every year, she, Opie, and Jax went to the park where Gemma and some of the other ladies had a big Easter event. There was chocolate, face and egg painting, and, her favorite, balloon animals.

It was time for the Easter egg hunt though and whoever got the most eggs got a prize. So as soon as the whistle blew, every kid under the age of ten raced forward and started searching. Under picnic tables, in the grass, through the sand on the playground. Cheers rang out as more and more kids found eggs, happily filling their basket.

Small chocolate eggs were hidden all around too, but it was only the big ones that mattered. Especially since the big prize was more chocolate than she could eat in a year.

Chloe found more than a dozen little eggs hidden in the grass, along tree roots, by the swing set and on the slide, but she only found one big egg and that definitely wouldn't be enough to win. Both Jax and Opie had at least two each. She was frustrated and kept looking, but her hope was running low.

And then… "Psst…"

Chloe frowned, turning her head, and searched for the noise.

Just behind one of the trees stood Thomas; or Uncle Tom as everybody else called him. He waved her over quickly, his heavily tattooed knuckles looking out of place with his buttoned down shirt tucked into his jeans. Chloe walked over to him curiously since he seemed to be hiding and no other adults were standing so close since it wasn't fair for them to help search.

"I can't talk. I have to find eggs," she told him. "All the good ones are gone."

He grinned at her and knelt down. "Don't worry so much, kid. We look out for our own." And with that, Tom filled her basket with, what had to be, a whole dozen of the big eggs. They were heavy enough that the basket slumped to the ground from her hand. He winked at her stunned face. "Go on and getchur prize," he said, giving her a nudge on the shoulder.

Chloe backed up and looked around before hurrying off toward where Opie stood, his mouth ringed in chocolate, a pile of silver and colored wrappers at his feet. He waved at her as she stopped by them, while Jax nodded in hello.

"I think Jax won," Opie told her, his teeth covered in chocolate.

She looked at their baskets, where two and three eggs sat respectively, and chewed her lip indecisively. She knew it was cheating and it was wrong, or so her teachers taught her in school, but she  _really_ wanted the prize…

The whistle blew to call the kids back; Opie and Jax immediately started toward it.

Shifting her feet, Chloe stood nervously. "Wait!"

They looked back at her, confused.

Sighing, she moved forward and grabbed their baskets. She divided her full dozen up so that each of them had five and then stood back. Nodding, she started forward. "C'mon."

She was already ahead a few steps before they caught up.

"Where'd you get all those eggs?" Jax wondered, frowning. "Me an' Ope looked everywhere!"

Chloe looked between them and shrugged.

She still felt kind of bad, but she told herself it was okay because she was still sharing.

Gemma handed out the prize of a full chocolate basket, saying she, Jax, and Opie had to share it between them. Since Opie was already pretty full from eating chocolate during the search, it was only really her and Jax that won anything.

"Do you think cheating's wrong?" she asked the older boy, who was opening up a caramel filled egg and pouring it inside his mouth.

Jax shrugged. "Only if someone finds out."

Her lips pursed; she wasn't sure that was how it worked.

In the end, Chloe didn't eat much of the chocolate. Which was fine with Jax, and eventually Opie, who was up for more a couple hours later. But later, when she'd think about it, she decided Jax was wrong. Cheating wasn't okay, whether anybody knew or not. She appreciated Uncle Tom trying to help her out, but she resolved to get the most eggs the next year, all on her own.

* * *

_December 24, 1986_

"Miss Gemma, can I have a cloth? Tommy's got fruit cake all over his hands," Chloe said, leaning against the leg of the pool table.

Gemma briefly looked around, spotting her youngest son, just shy of three years old, sitting on the floor with his newly opened Tonka dump trunk, his sticky fingers touching everything. She smiled fondly and nodded down at Chloe. "Sure, honey, I'll grab you one."

As she walked behind the bar, Chloe climbed up onto one of the stools and perched her chin on her hand, watching Gemma soak a rag in the sink, maneuvering around Uncle Lenny, who was manning the bar for their Christmas Eve party. Although, he'd spent most of the time talking up at least three different women and not really serving drinks, so Chloe thought it was a bit of a moot point.

"Here you go," Gemma said, handing the rag over. "You sure you're okay watching Tommy?"

Chloe shrugged, folding it over in her hand. "Dad took Opie and Jackie for a ride on his quad, so I don't mind."

"Yeah?" She leaned over, her arms resting on the bar. "Your dad do that a lot? Take Ope and Jax instead of you?"

She shrugged. "Sometimes. Ope says it's 'cause they're doing boy stuff, but…" She rolled her eyes. "He says that about everything. One time, he said I couldn't hang out with him and Jax, but all they did was drink a bunch of soda and have a burping contest."

Gemma snorted. "Yeah, well, just be lucky the gas was coming out their mouths and not the other end."

Wrinkling her nose, Chloe laughed and hopped down from the stool. "Thanks," she said, waving the cloth before she went.

"Sure."

Taking a seat on the floor, Chloe took each of Tommy's hands and wiped them clear before turning the cloth over and wiping his mouth too. "There. Now you're probably the cleanest guy in here."

Tommy grinned up at her toothily and handed her a car to play with. Unlike his brother, Tommy didn't talk much. Sure, he was only two, but when he wanted to, he could talk for days. More the quiet sort, he preferred silent company to conversation and Chloe could get that. They were surrounded by talkers; the whole club had an opinion on everything. They were always loud, in part, to her thinking, so they could be heard over their music.

"You wanna race?" she asked him, moving up to her knees. "First car to the armchair gets the piece of chocolate cake Uncle Keith left on the counter." She winked at him. "You don't rat, I won't rat."

Giggling, Tommy mimicked her and got ready to race his car.

He won, but they split the cake.

Eventually, he fell asleep in her lap, and she curled up in the corner of one of the couches, falling asleep to the noise of the club as they drank and sang and wished each other a Merry Christmas. She only woke up briefly when JT picked his son up out of her arms and Piney leaned down to pick her up to bring her home. She would have to spend Christmas day with her mom and Gabe, but it was a good night all the same.

* * *

_March 6, 1987_

"You got everything, Chloe?"

Chloe looked down at her packed suitcase, her hands on her hips, and mentally went over everything she grabbed. Finally, certain that she had everything she wanted, she nodded.

Gabe walked further into room, amused by how much she'd fit into her suitcase. He zipped it up and flipped it over, taking it by the handle to carry out. "You know we're only going to be away for a few days, right? We'll be coming back on Sunday."

"It's good to be prepared," she told him, lifting her chin.

"I counted at least six different shirts in here. You only need two."

"What if something happens and I mess up the other ones? Or what if it's cold and I need a sweater. Or if it gets warm and I need a t-shirt. Or what if it rains or I fall into grandma's pool?" Her eyes widened. "I was running outside last year, and her dog tripped me and I almost fell in!"

"I remember… You wrote a whole article on pool safety and presented it to her…" He grinned. "I think she framed it and hung it on her wall."

Chloe blushed. "I wrote it in crayon… I couldn't find a pen."

He nodded down at her. "I think that just adds more tone to it."

Shrugging, she followed him down the hallway to the front door. "Do you think grandma and mom will fight again?"

Gabe sighed. "Honestly…?" He looked back at her, a brow raised. "Probably."

She chewed her lip as she watched him load the suitcases into the trunk.

Once a year they went up to see Gabe's mom. Moira always made them do it on a weekend and not on a holiday because she knew she couldn't stand to spend more than a couple days with her. Chloe liked Gabe's mom well enough. She was always nice to her and put out cookies for her to eat. The only complication was that Chloe wasn't Gabe's, and according to his mother she should be. So her mom and grandma fought frequently about the same thing. Gabe should legally adopt Chloe and Piney should have no more say in her life. Moira, for all that she didn't like Piney, had never agreed to this. Chloe thought it had more to do with not wanting to be told what to do than actually wanting Piney to have rights. That was why Chloe's last name was Sullivan and not Winston, because her mother had tried to make it look like she was Gabe's, to wipe out any connection to Piney. But he had refused to sign over full rights, refused to let Gabe fully adopt her, no matter how much Moira threatened him, and in the end, Piney was her dad. It didn't matter what her mom said, what her grandma wanted, or what her last name was.

Oddly, she thought Gabe understood that more than her mother or grandmother. He was a good guy. Honest, hardworking, and he genuinely cared about her and her mom. He also didn't get upset when she spent time with Piney or her brother, but he did know how much Moira hated it, so he'd often ask her to try not to do it so often or so blatantly.

"You have to understand, Chloe, they're both very headstrong women…" He chucked her under the chin affectionately. "Much like yourself."

"Jax says I'm stubborn as a mule."

"Jax is right," he said, chuckling to himself.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Well I'm not telling him that, he's already got a big head."

"I thought Jackson was your friend…?" He closed the trunk and turned to her, his hands resting comfortably on his hips.

She shrugged. "Sure, I guess."

"But not your best friend?"

Her mouth screwed up and she shook her head, her brow furrowed. "Opie's my best friend," she declared, as though it was common knowledge, never to be questioned, and, really, it was. Despite Mary and Moira's protests, nothing could separate Chloe and Opie from one another. They stuck together, leaned on one another, and recognized each other as forever friends and siblings.

"It's good you have him," Gabe told her sincerely, reaching over to pat her hair. "I bet you're going to miss him while we're away."

She nodded, her lips turning down. "Do you think grandma will let me call him when I'm there?"

He looked down at her. "Is it going to stop you if she says no?"

Her lips twitched in a smile as she shook her head honestly. "Nope."

Amused by her candor, he grabbed her up and threw her over his shoulder. "Come on, trouble-maker, let's go see if your mom's done her hair yet."

"I bet she isn't!"

"I bet you two dollars she is," he bargained.

"Deal!"

Moira wasn't ready and Chloe made two bucks. That weekend, her mother and grandmother bickered often. Chloe called Opie every night before bed, sneaking to the phone when her grandma and mom weren't looking, getting a wink and a subtle thumb's up from Gabe, who always seemed to know. She called Piney to say goodnight too and made him promise to take her out for dinner on Sunday to make up for the Saturday breakfast they missed. She managed not to fall in the pool, and she didn't end up needing anything extra she packed, but she insisted that it was well worth packing anyway.

* * *

_April 10, 1987_

Chloe didn't notice Gemma standing in the doorway, she was too preoccupied with the book she held in her hands. Tommy was half-asleep, lying in the small bed she sat next to, his thumb tucked in his mouth, his eyes fluttering from time to time as he tried to stay awake.

Piney had been called to 'church' for an emergency meeting with the club. Rather than go home, Chloe had opted to hang out at Gemma's house. Jax was at Opie's for a sleepover, so it was just her and Tommy for the most part. Little more than three years old, he wasn't exactly her equal, but Chloe enjoyed spending time with Tommy. With Opie, she was always the little one, looking to him for help, guidance, and inspiration, but with Tommy, she felt like she could give that to him. Sure, he had Jax, who he loved a lot, but Chloe figured he could use a sister too.

Tommy liked the Berenstain Bears stories; his favorite so far was  _The Berenstain Bears to the Rescue_ and  _The Berenstain Bears and No Girls Allowed_ , the latter of which she found particularly ironic since he always made  _her_ read it to him.

Half-way through  _No Girls Allowed_  and Tommy had finally drifted off. Chloe closed the book and placed it on top of the stack besides his bed before she stood from the chair she'd been occupying. She tucked the blanket over his shoulders and started toward the door, startling a little when she saw Gemma standing there, but the older woman merely smiled and held her hand out. Chloe took it and followed her out of the room as Gemma turned out the light and closed the door until only a few inches remained, letting the hallway light flow through.

They walked to the kitchen, where Gemma let her hand go so she could climb onto one of the stools by the counter while she poured them each a glass of milk and broke out a bag of cookies. She winked and placed a stack in front of each of them before taking the stool on Chloe's left.

"So? How's school?"

Chloe shrugged, dipping her chocolate chip cookie in her milk. "It's all right. My teacher makes us write journals every day. I like those."

"Just those?"

She gave it some thought before nodding. "Yep!"

Gemma chuckled under her breath. "You know, you're a smart kid, Chloe. I bet you could do great things… Maybe one day you'll write your own book."

Her eyes lit up hopefully. "You think?"

"Sure," she encouraged.

"That'd be cool."

Gemma hummed agreeably.

"What about Opie?" she wondered through a mouthful, cookie crumbs tumbling down her chin.

"What about him?"

"I don't want to write books if it means I have to leave him. Would I have to leave here?"

"Depends." Gemma shrugged. "You can write from here if you want, but the good writers go out and explore the world before they write about it."

Nose scrunched up, she frowned. "Maybe Opie could come with me though, right? We could go everywhere together. He'll have his bike then too!"

With an amused smile, she shook her head. "Sure, he'll probably go with you. But you know what's even better?"

"What?"

"Going your own way," she told her. "You can get your own bike, ride these roads hard and leave tread marks on the face of anybody who tries to stop you." She dunked a cookie low in her milk and mused, "The world's big, Chloe. You can either spend your life stuck in Charming, playing shadow to your brother, or you can get out there and be the sun. You're too smart to clean up after others. Take it from someone who's had a life of it." She scoffed under her breath and bit off a chunk of her half-mushy cookie. "You want my advice, kid?"

Chloe nodded.

"You kick ass at school, get a scholarship to one of those big colleges, write a few books, live off the spoils, and wave your middle finger back at this town and everybody in it."

"Everybody?" she asked, chewing her lip.

She laughed under her breath. "Everybody, honey." With a wink, she stood from the stool. "I expect a big fat thank you for those words of wisdom in your first book, too. First time my name'll be published for something that didn't involve handcuffs." Dusting off her hands, she downed the rest of her milk and walked toward the sink.

Chloe sat thoughtfully, picking at her cookies, letting Gemma's advice sink in, though she had no idea what it would mean for her future.

* * *

_June 13, 1987_

"All right, Princess, what's the rule?" Tig asked as he knelt in front of her, his sunglasses pushed up into his curly hair, perched atop his head.

"We don't tell dad." She grinned cheekily. "'Cause he'd have your head on a spike."

"Uh-huh, and where does Uncle Tig like his head?" He wiggled his eyebrows down at her.

"On his shoulders," she laughed.

"Right." He clipped her helmet under her chin and then gave it a little rap with his knuckles. "You ready to ride?"

She nodded excitedly.

Standing, he hauled her up by her armpits and sat her down on the seat of his bike. She would be eight next month, still too small to probably be on a bike, which was why Piney always kept her in the sidecar, but Tig was a little more lenient.

Tig had a black and silver 1980 Harley Davidson FXWH Wide Glide with red and yellow flames painted on the fuel tank. His bike had a raised passenger seat behind his with a padded back. He added a seatbelt for safety, but told her she always had to hold onto his shoulders too. He never went too fast when they went for rides, no matter how much she told him he should.

Buckling her up, he put her pink glasses on to cover her eyes and then flipped his own down from his hair. Climbing onto his bike, he revved the engine and waited for her hands to fall to his shoulders and squeeze before he pulled out onto the road, smooth and easy. Her heart skittered happily as they started moving and she curled her fingers around the leather of his cut.

They just went up and down the streets of Charming for the first half hour; he didn't like to push it. She admired the familiar houses, the trees, and the shops she'd seen all her life. Charming was a pretty small town, where most knew each other. It wasn't an unfamiliar sight to see Chloe on the back of Tig's bike or the sidecar of Piney's. She was automatically affiliated with SAMCRO from birth. While she knew the people they passed in their ride, she didn't wave, she didn't see them as friends or family. They were acquaintances, familiar faces, but there had always been a distinct line between them and her. As much as the town of Charming relied on SAMCRO to keep them safe from other,  _worse_ , gangs, they were still leery of them. And as much as she was only eight years old, she was still the daughter of Piney, she was beloved by some of the fiercest men Charming had ever known.

To her, Tig was a teddy bear; he called her Princess and let her into the club when she wasn't technically supposed to be there. He snuck her sodas, liked to show her each and every one of his many knives, and watched Sunday morning cartoons with her at the club house while they each ate bowls of cereal. He was a big kid. She didn't see anything crazy about him, though she noticed he could be different, a little higher energy than the others. But he was loyal and caring and he treated her like she was his own, like she was his family. That was all that mattered to her.

Eventually, Tig pulled out of Charming, as he always did. He gave in to the need to drive further and faster. He took her out to the highway for a longer trip and she whooped happily as they picked up speed. Chloe felt alive when she was on a bike; she loved the wind whipping at her face. She always felt like she was floating. Like something had climbed inside her, full of energy and excitement, and it grew and grew the longer they drove. The louder the growl of the engine, the faster the bike, the more alive she felt. She belonged on a bike. It was home as much as the club house.

Some time later, as the sun was beginning to set, they headed back to town, pulling into the familiar Teller-Morrow lot. Tig parked the bike, lined up next to the others, and climbed off. He undid her helmet and seatbelt before helping her down, grinning when her legs were a little wobbly. Her hair was a mess, even with the helmet, her cheeks were flushed, and an ecstatic grin spread her lips.

Tig held out a hand and she low-fived it with her own. With a wink and a grin, he swaggered off to join the others while she turned on her heel and ran toward the club house, searching for her brother and Jax. Adrenaline was still pumping through her veins and, like a junkie, she couldn't wait for her next chance to go riding. She imagined that feeling would never fade.

* * *

_July 17, 1987_

The first time Chloe met Chibs, he was visiting about SAMBEL, a new chapter of SAMCRO that JT and Keith had started up all the way over in Northern Ireland. He was young, only twenty-four. He wasn't as tall as her dad was, but he stood a good 6 feet. He was broad-shouldered and lanky, with dark hair pushed back into a ponytail at his nape, and two deep scars that ran down his cheeks to curl at his jaw. He grinned down at her as he climbed off his bike, winking.

"An' how are yeh doin' this fine mornin', missy?" he wondered, kneeling down beside her, tucking his sunglasses in his shirt.

Her eyes lit up. "You have an accent!"

"Aye, a Scottish brogue," he replied with enthusiastic drama.

"Are you here to see JT?" she wondered, eyeing his leather cut; the patch on the left side of his chest read 'Prospect.'

"I am," he agreed, nodding. "Would yeh be able ta' point me in the right direction?"

Turning on her heel, she started walking, and with a light chuckle, he followed after her.

Chloe turned her head up to look at him, one eye closed against the sun. "What's your name?" she wondered.

"My mum called me Filip," he answered. "But my friends call me Chibs."

Her brow furrowed curiously. "How come?"

"Yeh see these?" His gloved finger followed one deep, red scar over his cheek.

She nodded.

"Was a knife that did that, and in Scotland, knife is 'chib.'" He winked down at her. "Knife can't hurt me if I'm the knife."

"You're smart." She grinned. "I bet JT likes you."

He laughed under his breath. "Here's hopin'. If I'm lucky, I might get myself transferred over her ta' SAMCRO."

"I don't know if we need any more knives," she joked. "Uncle Tig already has sixteen."

"Yeh don' say?"

She nodded. "He collects them."

Stopping outside of the office door, Chloe rapped her fist against it and then stood back. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. Chibs. I hope you get patched in!" she told him.

"It was a pleasure ta' meet you too," he said, nodding down at her, a smile playing over his lips.

The door swung open then and JT stood before them. "See you've met Chloe..."

"Aye, she's a good guide."

Chloe grinned before leaving them to their conversation and going in search of her brother. She wouldn't see the nice Scottish man again that day, but she would hear about him in passing.

* * *

_September 3, 1987_

Chloe was searching for a lighter. She knew there'd be one somewhere, just about everyone in the club smoked something or other. She checked behind the bar and around the pool table before finally finding one on an end table by the couch. Pocketing it and grinning to herself, she was halfway to the door, excited for Opie to light the firecrackers he and Jax found, when she heard what sounded like crying. Pausing, she backtracked, her brow furrowed. Her head cocked curiously, she walked toward the sound, following it right into the bathroom.

Gemma hadn't locked it, obviously thinking that she'd have some privacy in the club when all the guys were working in the shop. She was sobbing into her hands, hunched over, and Chloe lowered her gaze, feeling like she was intruding. She knew immediately what was wrong. Jax had been moody lately and finally told Opie that Tommy was sick. Something was wrong with his heart and there were all these surgeries they had to do for him to be better. But they were expensive and it was stressing out his parents. Jax was worried that Tommy was going to die… For the first time, seeing Gemma, she realized maybe that was a possibility.

Standing there, knowing that Gemma hadn't seen her, she considered just leaving. If there was one thing she knew it was that Gemma was proud and she wouldn't like knowing she'd been caught crying. But another part of her felt bad about that and it was what pushed her into acting. Stepping inside the bathroom, she walked right up to her and wrapped her arms around Gemma, who was shaking under her. She startled at first, inhaling sharply, and raised her head to look at Chloe, her mascara running down her cheeks.

Chloe reached over and tore off some toilet paper, using it to wipe away the messy make-up.

"I'm sure Tommy will be okay," she said quietly. "He's strong, just like his mom and dad and even his brother." She nodded. "If he's as stubborn as Jax, he'll live forever."

Gemma let out a choked laugh, just watching her for a moment, her brow furrowed. Chloe decided it was better to hug than talk and wrapped her arms around Gemma's neck. The older woman took a few minutes to get herself together, patting Chloe's back as she did. Finally, she stood, cleaned herself up, and then walked them back into the bar area.

"Don't you have some boys to be keep an eye on?" Gemma teased her, nudging her shoulder.

Grinning, she nodded, and took off at a run toward the door. Jax and Opie complained that she took forever when she finally arrived, but Chloe just shrugged it off. She didn't tell them what she'd seen with Gemma; she deserved that respect.

Later that night, when Clay broke out a barbecue and made everybody burgers, Chloe sat on a milk crate between her brother and Jax. She looked up, surprised, when Gemma tugged on her hair. Leaning her head back, she half-smiled when Gemma simply kissed her cheek and said, "Thank you, baby," before walking off, letting the whole thing go.

"What was that?" Jax asked through a mouthful.

Chloe shrugged.

"Hey, do you still have that lighter?" Opie wondered.

And just like that, the subject was never brought up again.

* * *

_February 1, 1988_

Chloe sat atop a rolling stool, watching the new mechanic as he worked.

His hair fascinated her. It was frizzy and curly and seemed to have a life of its own. The man,  _Bobby_ , muttered under his breath a lot. He'd recently moved to Charming and, while he wasn't wearing a prospect patch yet, she figured it was just a matter of time. Chloe didn't usually befriend the prospects. She thought it was smarter not to get close just in case they didn't get full patches. If they didn't become SAMCRO, they didn't come by the club anymore, and she usually took it to mean that the Sons didn't trust them, so then she shouldn't either. But she liked Bobby. She liked him just as she'd liked Chibs when he'd passed through from SAMBEL. She got a feeling in her gut that, like her favorite Scotsman, Bobby would become a brother of the club.

"You ever hear of Elvis, kid?" he wondered, turning to look at her, a thick eyebrow raised.

She shook her head.

"No?" He stood up, wiping his hands on a rag. "You never heard of the lip curl…" He showed her his, leaving his lip twitching comically. "Or the hair, real big up top, with just a little curl to hang down over his forehead…" He smoothed his hand over his hair, but Chloe thought he just looked silly. "Had the best dance moves, too…" He thrust his hips around side to side and waved his arms around. Combined with the curled lip, it made Chloe burst into a fit of laughter.

"You just call me…  _Bobby Elvis_ ," he said, in a deep, animated drawl.

"I'd like to call ya 'working,'" Clay's voice interrupted.

Bobby straightened, a faint grin pulling at his lips. "Sorry… Just trying to educate the kid on some classics."

"Do you know who Elvis is?" Chloe asked, turning to look at Clay inquisitively.

He nodded at her. "Yeah, sure, I do." Walking over, he took down one of the rags and handed it to her. "C'mon, you wanna hang out in the shop, why don't we find you something to polish?"

"A bike?" she asked hopefully, bouncing on her tip-toes.

He laughed under his breath and picked her up, carrying her in the crook of his elbow. "Sure thing. We'll get you polishing my bike, how's that sound?"

She nodded agreeably and he grinned, carrying her out of the shop and toward the line of bikes. Turning her head back, she shouted, "See ya, Bobby Elvis!"

He waved at her, smiling.

She hoped he stuck around.

* * *

_March 3, 1988_

Chloe rested her chin on her hands, staring at her mother's blank face, her eyes distant. Moira's episodes had been more and more frequent as time went on and Chloe had been timing this one for over twenty-three minutes.

The front door snapped shut and she looked up and over to see her step-dad walk inside, shrugging off his heavy jacket. He worked up at the mill just about seven days a week and was always tired when he got home. He greeted her with a weary smile all the same, only letting it slip as he set eyes on his wife.

"How long?" he wondered.

"Twenty-four minutes and fifteen seconds," she answered smartly.

He hummed, nodding, and made his way to the kitchen. "She make dinner?"

Shaking her head, she sat back in her chair, her legs swinging. "She said something about leftovers."

Gabe checked the fridge but found the shelves mostly empty. "She didn't go shopping this week?"

Chloe hopped off her chair and walked over. "Nope," she said, popping the 'p.'

He frowned. "Where have you been eating?"

She cast her eyes away; she didn't like to lie to Gabe.

"Around," she answered with a shrug.

Closing the fridge door, he dug his hand into his pocket and came up with his keys. "All right, how about you and I go pick something up for dinner?" he offered, half-smiling. "Hopefully, by the time we get back, she'll be… back to usual, right?"

"Sure." Chloe moved down the hall to put her shoes on, letting Gabe walk ahead of her and open the door. She cast one last uncertain look back at her mom and then left.

Moira's record was originally twenty-one minutes.

By the time they got back from picking up fried chicken, her record was forty-nine. She snapped out of it shortly after they set the table and nobody talked about what happened, but Chloe wrote it down in the log she kept and spent a lot of time wondering what it meant.

* * *

_April 6, 1988_

Over the last year, SAMCRO had been meeting more and more. They'd been taking more trips, dealing with more people, and the talk in the room had gotten progressively darker. Chloe knew, on some level, that the club she'd grown up in, of men just looking for freedom, for a place to be themselves and accepted, was changing. As a girl who had only known the men as loyal and trustworthy, who would do anything to keep her and those she cared about safe, she assumed that this change would be good, that it was necessary.

Chloe was what her dad liked to call curious, but what most others called nosy. As she grew up, her curiosity about what was said around the table in church nagged at her. None of the kids were allowed inside the room; it was only SAMCRO members that sat at the table and discussed business. More than once, she'd convinced Opie to try and listen in with her, and every time they were caught. Usually by Tig, probably the most suspicious of the group, who would boot them outside. Later, Piney would lecture them about eavesdropping. Eventually, it got harder and harder to convince Opie to join in, but it never stopped Chloe from trying to find out what SAMCRO was planning behind closed doors.

Chloe was born with an insatiable need to know, well,  _everything_. Sure, that first day of school she'd been less than enthusiastic, but as time went on, she realized knowledge was her big ticket. And she didn't just mean world-wise, but Charming-wise too. Chloe wasn't stupid. For an eight, going on nine, year old, she was actually pretty damn smart. So she listened when the boys of SAMCRO talked. She knew far more than she should, all because they were so used to her that she could fly under the radar. She was trusted, maybe not enough to sit in on meetings, but enough that they knew she'd never rat. And she wouldn't. If she learned anything growing up under the feet of the Sons of Anarchy, it was that loyalty was everything. Besides, they were her family.

Her understanding of right and wrong was, admittedly, a little skewed, in part because a little of her loved all her "uncles" so much that she preferred to think they could do no wrong. But she knew that they did bad things sometimes, she knew that they had hurt people. It was justified to her as what was 'necessary to protect the club.' And she got it, on some level. The club, the Sons, had to come first, above all and everyone else.

Still, she wanted to know, she  _needed_ to know, everything. So she kept trying, and usually failing, but that didn't mean she didn't know anything. In fact, she knew far too much. What she did with that information? Well, nothing, really. She was still just a kid. So she filed it away, she added it to the tall pile of things she already knew about the men around her, good, bad, neutral. And it never changed how she saw them.

Were they all good people? Probably not. But they were  _her_ people. And that was what mattered.

* * *

_August 20, 1988_

Chloe sat on a stool, sipping her soda through a straw, watching some of the guys play pool, a wad of cash stacked up for whoever won. On the couch, Lenny was entertaining three different women, while Bobby stood by the jukebox, an arm around another blonde. She honestly couldn't tell if Uncle Tom was getting frisky with the woman he was talking to or casually trying to pick her pockets; it could be both. Chico, Tig, Clay and Piney were all more interested in the pool table, but there were more than a few women hanging around, waiting for their chance to distract them.

Usually, around this time, when the party started to lean more toward women losing their clothes and the guys forgetting all about propriety, Gemma ushered her out of the club. But she was currently out of town, another check-up for Tommy. JT had gone with her, which left Clay, as vice president, in charge.

"Hey, half-pint," called a familiar, raspy voice.

Chloe looked over, spotted Lenny nodding at her, and hopped down from her stool, crossing the room toward him. Two of the three girls he was with pouted at the loss of attention.

"You wanna make a few bucks?"

Her brows perked up. "I'm listening…"

He smirked at her, amused. "Round up your brother and Jackie, I'll give you a few bucks, you pick me up a couple packs of smokes, take the rest, buy what you want. How's that sound?"

Seeing as Lenny wasn't one to pass around money, she was skeptical. Lenny was smart, like genius-level smart, and he never made split-second decisions, especially ones that didn't benefit him more than others. At least, not those outside of the immediate brothers of the club.

"What's the catch?" she wondered, putting a hand on her hip.

"Listen, you're doing me a favor, I'm doing you a favor…" He waved a hand around. "You don't need to be around these crow-eater's… Where's your mom at now, anyway?"

She cast her eyes away and shrugged.

"Doesn't matter," he dismissed. "The corner store a couple blocks over rents out movies. You grab my smokes, you get you and the boys something to watch, a few snacks, and we're even."

Ignoring the rest, she wondered, "What's a crow-eater?"

He shook his head. "Nothing you wanna be and nothing you're gonna see." He dug into his pocket and came out with his wallet before handing over two ten dollar bills. "Bring me back two packs of—"

"Camels," she said knowingly, nodding as she snagged the bills from his fingers.

"And take the boys," he shouted after her as she turned on her heel, jogging toward the door.

She waved a hand back at him over her shoulder.

A few minutes later, she found the boys playing with fire crackers in the lot and told them what was happening. They grabbed up their identical Schwinn bikes and Chloe climbed up to sit on the handlebars of Opie's for the short ride over, adding commentary as the boys tried to pick what movie they wanted to watch.

"What about Karate Kid 2?" Opie wondered.

"Nah, the first one was way better," Jax said, shaking his head. "We should get something creepy… Like Critters."

"Or Aliens," Chloe offered.

"Labyrinth looked weird," Opie said.

"We could get something funny, like Ferris Bueller's Day Off," she added, shrugging.

Jax's back tire skidded as he came to a halt in front of the store and left his bike leaning against the curb, waiting for them before he walked toward the door. "How much extra money do you think we'll have?"

"I dunno. Why? You want to get a couple movies?"

He held the door open and Chloe ducked under his arm to walk in, waving at Shirley behind the counter. Popping her gum, the cashier nodded her chin toward them in hello, flipping a page on her magazine and otherwise ignoring them as they walked around.

It took Opie all of ten minutes before he gave up arguing with them about movies and instead went to check out the junk food.

"Hey, Jax?"

"Yeah?" He grabbed up another video and turned it over to read the back.

"What's a crow-eater?"

He paused and then turned to look at her, his brow raised. "How come?"

She shrugged. "Lenny said it earlier; he said I'd never be one and I shouldn't hang around them."

He tucked the moved back on the shelf and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "It's something they call the girls who hang around the club, the ones who are always trying to hook up, catch their attention…"

Her brows furrowed. "So… it's like an old lady?"

"No." He shook his head, shifting his feet awkwardly. "See, old lady is a wife. She's special."

Chloe crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow skeptically. "She can't be too special. Half the club's got old ladies and they still hook up with other girls."

He sighed. "Look, I dunno. I just know a crow-eater is someone who  _wants_ to be an old lady but ain't."

Rolling her eyes, she said, "Well I think it's stupid. Old lady, crow-eater,  _whatever_ , I don't want to be any of it." Reaching out, she grabbed Ghostbusters off the shelf. "Let's go. Before Ope spends all our money on cheesies."

As she walked away, Jax hurried to catch up, falling into step with her. "Hey…?"

She looked over.

"I don't know what it all means… but I know if  _I_ had an old lady…" He shook his head. "I wouldn't waste my time with anybody else."

Despite still thinking the hierarchy system was ridiculous, Chloe half-smiled at him. For all that she bugged Jax, he was her friend, and she liked it when he said things like that, when he showed a side of himself that was different.

"Ghostbuster?  _Again?_ " Opie asked, chewing on a string of licorice.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, again." Reaching out, she tore off half his licorice and stuck the end between her teeth. "You ready to go?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

Taking the movie up to the front, she waited for her brother and Jax to add the chips, pop, and popcorn they were getting, and then handed over the money before adding in the two packs of Camels for Lenny. Shirley didn't so much as bat an eye as she tossed the cigarettes into the bag with the pop.

The ride back to the club house was mostly spent listening to her brother and Jax trade jabs at each other. She smiled to herself, tipping her head back and enjoying the cool air against her warm skin. Her earlier contemplation on life and the women who surrounded the men of SAMCRO was forgotten. She was just a girl; she didn't even know what she wanted out of her life yet. She only knew that she was free and happy and, while it wasn't a motorcycle, she was riding through life at a pace she liked.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Amazing fic poster made by [dhfreak](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary), so leave some love on her Tumblr!!

[ ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary)

 

 **Part Three**.

_June 12, 1989_

Despite the frustration it caused her, Chloe kept coming back for more. Ever since Chibs patched over to become a member of SAMCRO, she'd been trying to get him to teach her Gaelic. Unfortunately, while it flowed from him quiet easily, and even sounded pretty when he talked, she felt like she was butchering it.

She frowned. "No, say it again, but slower."

Chibs nodded at her, sounding it out slowly, "KIM-mer uh HAH shiv?" He watched her, brows hiked, and repeated it without the emphasis, " _Ciamar a tha sibh?_ "

She tried, her tongue tripping over it a little.

He smiled. " _Tha gu math, tapadh leibh!_ "

Her brow furrowed. "That wasn't the same thing…"

He laughed under his breath. "You asked me how I was, an' I told you, 'I'm well, thank you.'"

Chloe threw her head back and sighed.

"Come on," he encouraged. "We'll try a few more and then I can teach you ' _Tha, beagan_.'"

She blinked at him.

"So when somebody asks you ' _A bheil Gàidhlig agaibh_?' or 'Do you speak Gaelic?' you can tell 'em, ' _Tha, began_.'" He nodded. "'A little.'"

Chloe slumped in her chair. "And I thought  _math_ was hard…"

He patted her shoulder and grinned. "You're doin' just fine. Before yeh know it, you'll be a pro. It'll be nice havin' someone around who knows what I'm talkin' about."

Hearing that only made her more resolved to try harder.

Taking a deep breath, she sat up straighter, lifting her chin stubbornly. "Okay, let's try it again."

And so went the rest of the day.

By the time dinner rolled around, he wondered, " _A bheil an t-acras ort?_ " (Are you hungry?)

And with a proud smile, she said slowly, " _Ceart gu leòr. Tha an t-acras orm_." (You bet. I'm hungry!)

"Atta girl," he praised.

They celebrated with burgers and fries at Pat's diner; Chloe thought she might be better at math if it was as rewarding.

* * *

_July 24, 1989_

When Chloe found out that Mary had just packed up and left town with Opie, she was inconsolable. "You have to bring him back," she told her dad. "She can't have him! He doesn't even  _like_ her!"

"Chloe, Mary is Opie's mom. I can't control what she does… I—I don't even know where she went." Piney sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"This isn't fair." She stomped her foot. "He doesn't want to be with her. This is home! We're his  _family!_ " Tears streaked down her cheeks. "I want him back!" Her voice cracked. "Make her give him back!"

Hushing her, he gathered her up into his arms and hugged her close, rubbing her back soothingly. It took a while, but Chloe eventually sobbed herself to sleep in his arms. When she woke up back in her bed, she was confused, and when she remembered, she only curled up in a ball and cried some more.

A lethargic Chloe took to sitting outside of Mary's house, now empty, leaning against the spot underneath Opie's window, waiting for him to come back. Sometimes, Jax would come and sit with her, and if she was feeling particularly sad, she would cry on his shoulder. At the club, she sat on the couch, waiting. It didn't matter how many times Tig told jokes with his odd sense of humor, or Bobby sang an Elvis song for her, or Uncle Tom brought her something he'd recently stolen just for her, she absolutely refused to be cheered up. And if anybody asked her what they could do, her answer was always the same. "I want Opie."

SAMCRO was at an impasse. If they looked for Opie and brought him back, Mary could bring the law into things, and the club didn't need law enforcement breathing down their necks. At the same time, it was Opie, it was Piney's son, and it wasn't right what Mary did, taking off in the middle of the night without anything but some divorce papers left behind and a note that said she was starting over and giving Opie a better life elsewhere.

* * *

_August 27, 1989_

A tapping at her window woke Chloe. She startled in her bed, sitting up quickly, and blinked as she looked around her dark bedroom. Another tap had her head turning toward it and she saw a fist and, when she squinted, the top of a familiar blond head. Leaving her bed, she walked over and opened the window, standing on her tip toes to look out at Jax. "What are you doing here?"

" _Shhh!_ " He pressed a finger to his lips meaningfully, looking around to see if anybody was around.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Well?"

He stood upright, hands tucked in his pockets, and shifted his feet. "Ope called me."

Her face lit up, and then dimmed. "Why didn't he call me?" she wondered angrily.

"He didn't have time. Look, he… He's coming back."

Her heart soared. "When?  _Now?_  Is dad picking him up somewhere?" She wiggled excitedly. "Tig promised he'd find him! I knew he wouldn't lie to me!"

Jax shook his head. "No, it's…" He sighed. "Opie ran away from Mary. He's gonna hop this train; he said it runs right through Charming. He told me to meet him down at the tracks, that he'd be there around 3 o'clock tonight…" He chewed his lip. "I thought you'd wanna come."

Chloe had barely waited for him to finish his sentence before she was racing across her room to pull on a pair of shoes and her jacket. With that, she climbed out of her window, hopping down to the ground next to him and dusting her hands off. "Let's go!"

He half-grinned, shaking his head at her in amusement.

They ran the whole way to the train tracks, ducking down alleys and avoiding any of the main roads where they might be seen and caught. The grinding sound of metal on metal, trains lumbering down the tracks, was loud and eerie. It was cold for summer too, making her tuck her hands in the pockets of her coat. Jax walked down one side of the tracks, his arms out, trying to balance, while she trekked along beside him.

"Do you think Mary will come back and try and take him again?"

He looked over at her and frowned before shrugging. "I dunno… Maybe."

Turning her face away, she scowled. "Why can't  _she_ just go away?"

"I heard my parents talking about it… Mom said Mary thought SAMCRO was a bad influence. She thought Piney was a bad dad and that if she didn't go then Opie would be just as bad, or worse." His brows hiked high on his forehead. "Can you believe that?"

Chloe snorted. "Opie's the nice one. He could never be a bad guy."

Jax hummed, looking back down at the tracks. "You ever wonder though, like, what it  _means_  to be bad?"

She stared up at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I dunno, like… Maybe what  _other_ people think is bad isn't what  _we_ think is bad…"

She frowned. "Like when we were little and I thought cheating was wrong, but you said it was only if other people knew."

He half-smiled. "Yeah, like that."

"At school, we're taught stealing is wrong…" She shrugged. "But at home, I mean, Uncle Tom steals everything."

He laughed, reaching up and running a hand through his hair.

"So, who's right then?" she wondered, peering over at him.

He turned to look at her, staring at her a long moment. "I don't know. Maybe nobody's right… Maybe nobody's good or bad, we just…  _are_."

Crossing her arms, she replied, "Or maybe we're all bad  _and_ good…"

"Maybe."

A train started pulled down the tracks then and they hopped off, walking along beside it as it chugged past. But when a steel door pulled open on one of the carts and a dirty Opie hopped out, they picked up their pace, running toward him. He grinned up at them from where he sat on the ground, a bag over his shoulder with what little he'd brought home with him. Jax reached a hand out to help him up and pulled him into a one-armed hug. Chloe bounced impatiently next to them until Jax pulled back and then she shoved her way forward and hugged her brother.

Opie squeezed her tightly. "I'm sorry I missed your birthday."

She shook her head quickly. "Wasn't your fault."

"I didn't know we were leaving. She said we were just gonna visit some family out of town…"

Chloe held him tighter. "You're never allowed to leave again," she told him.

"I didn't wanna go in the first place," he reminded.

"Well, now it's a rule!"

He chuckled under his breath, but nodded.

Pulling back, she smiled triumphantly up at him. "Come on… I'd take you home but Gabe would probably wake up and then mom would freak out and you know how she is. So we'll sneak you into one of the rooms at the club."

"Yeah? And how are we gonna do that? They lock all the doors, remember?" Jax offered up.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Don't be stupid. Tom showed me how to pick the locks…" She grinned, skipping forward in front of them. "You don't become a master thief like him without breaking into a few places."

Her brother and Jax merely grinned at her.

"You're a criminal in the making, Little Winston," Jax told her, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

Huffing, she shoved him off her. "Then I'll fit right in."

They walked back to the club house, trading lighthearted conversation, and relishing in having Opie back with them. It was four in the morning when they walked into the club. Chloe picked a lock on one of the doors and, exhausted, all three of them collapsed on the bed together, with Chloe's head at one end and her feet up between the two boys' shoulders. She woke up briefly sometime around 9 am when Gemma found them, but Jax's mom simply threw a blanket over them, kissed her son's forehead, and left them to sleep it off.

Come morning, Opie was welcomed with open arms. He was home; exactly where he was supposed to be. And when Mary came calling, that's exactly what Opie told her. She wasn't happy about it, but she didn't try to take him again; she knew he'd always find a way home.

* * *

_October 29, 1989_

Chloe hated black. The last time she had to wear it, she was six years old and they were burying Otto; she vaguely remembered wondering at the complexities of death with John Teller. She didn't like funerals any then and she hated them now. The turnout for Gabe Sullivan wasn't like it was for Otto Moran. There weren't Harley's lining the roads, men didn't crowd around to lay flowers on the casket or say a few words in his honor. His cut wasn't handed to his wife in respect because he didn't have one. Gabe was just a regular guy with a few friends from work that came to give their condolences. He was killed in an accident at the mill, there was no one to blame, no revenge to exact like after Otto's death.

Moira wept as the pastor said a prayer and Chloe gripped her brother's hand tighter. It said a lot that Moira didn't balk at Opie coming to the funeral. Either she was too depressed about Gabe's death to care or she didn't notice that he was there. Whatever the reason, Chloe couldn't help be glad for it.

Gabe was a good guy and she did love him. He was a dad to her in many ways and he made living at home easier than it might've been without him. She was sad that he died, that her mom was hurting, and that he wouldn't be there when she got home.

She let a few tears squeeze out and leaned against Opie's shoulder, grateful when his arm wrapped around her tightly.

Gabe was family. Maybe not to the same degree as most of the other men in her life, but he cared for her, fed her, clothed her, and listened to her when things with her mom were rough. He, probably better than anyone, understood how hard it was to live with Moira, with her increasing episodes making things more and more difficult. And now he was gone, and maybe it was selfish but Chloe couldn't help but be angry with him that he'd left her behind to deal with Moira on her own.

Closing her eyes, she turned and buried her face against her brother. She said a silent farewell to her step-dad, and hoped he was better off wherever he was.

* * *

_November 15, 1989_

Chloe watched the other kids running around, enjoying their lunch break. Some were playing tag, others were on the jungle gym, while some of the older kids sat around together in groups.

"I'm hungry," she declared.

Opie looked over at her from where he was dribbling a basketball, his brow furrowed. "Did you already eat your lunch?"

She shook her head. "Moira didn't make me one."

His eyes bulged in surprise. "So you haven't eaten since breakfast?" He let the ball wander away and walked over to her, taking a seat on the grass with her. "Moira still pretty upset over Gabe?"

Chloe nodded. "She's really quiet now… Sometimes I think she's having an episode, but I don't think that's it… She's not sleeping either, but she went to a doctor for that. Now she takes these pills and she just passes out." Turning her gaze down, she focused on the grass as she plucked it from the ground, making a small pile in front of her. "Opie, do you think Mary loves you?"

He gave it some thought before he shrugged. "I dunno… I guess so. I mean, she wanted me to go with her when she left."

"Do you think  _you_ love her?" She turned her head to watch him. "'Cause you didn't stay, so…"

"I love her… She's my mom." His lips twisted in a confused frown. "I just don't fit with her, you know? I… It makes sense here. I belong here."

Chloe nodded. "I don't know if I love my mom…" She threw a handful of grass away. "I don't like her, I know that." Her nose scrunched up. "Can you love someone and not like them at the same time?"

"Sure." He leaned over to bump her shoulder. "Hey, it doesn't matter if Moira's around, right? You got me!"

Smiling faintly, she looked up at him. "Who says I like you?"

He laughed, resting his arms on his upturned knees. "Whatever. Everybody knows I'm your favorite."

She shrugged. "I dunno. Tig's pretty awesome."

"Sure, if you like 'em crazy."

"Maybe I do."

Shaking his head, amused, Opie just watched her out of the corner of his eyes for a moment. His smile faded. "You know, you could come stay at the club house," he told her. "Or tell dad, he's already thinking of buying that old cabin."

Sobering, she shook her head. "I can't leave now. She just lost Gabe."

With a sigh, he frowned at her. "What about what's good for you?"

She forced a smile and stood up. "I'll survive." With that, she walked toward the basketball court and grabbed up the ball. "C'mon. Let's play HORSE."

Sighing, Opie followed after her, dusting grass off his jeans.

He would let it go, but he wouldn't forget.

* * *

_December, 1989_

Things got worse without Gabe, but Chloe had no idea just how much worse they were going to get. Without him there to help out, Moira became less and less capable of taking care of the house or Chloe. The fridge was almost always empty, the dishes never done, the bills rarely paid on time, if ever, and the medication she'd been prescribed by her doctor had created a whole new problem.

Originally, Moira had been prescribed a sleep aid. From there, she was seeing her doctor about every little ache and pain and, before she knew it, she had a prescription med problem. It wasn't so much 'episodes' anymore as Moira seemed to always be in a state of zoned out. More than once, Chloe had found her slumped in a chair, eyes open, drooling absently.

Chloe tried to keep up at home; if she wasn't at school or the club, she cleaned up, snagged some money from her mom's purse for groceries, cooked, and generally tried to keep afloat. Since Chloe was too young to work and Moira lost her job, they were just getting by on what they'd made from the life insurance policy Gabe had for himself. But after paying burial costs, it wasn't a whole lot. She knew that eventually she'd have to break down and ask her dad for help. That, or risk being kicked out on the street when the mortgage didn't get paid.

But for now, she was scraping by, so she would cope and try not to bring too much attention to herself. She still had the club to go to if she needed it, and so she spent most of her time there, hanging with the boys or trailing after Opie and Jax until she was forced to head home. It would have to be enough.

* * *

_April 9, 1990_

When Chloe had to don black again, the club joined her. It wasn't to honor a fallen brother of the cut though, which she thought actually made the service that much sadder. Tommy Teller died from his congenital heart defect only five days earlier. Gemma was inconsolable, sobbing against John's chest as the men of SAMCRO each laid flowers on the small casket.

Chloe stared across the way at a stoic Jax, his hands clasped in front of him, his usually easy-going grin long gone. Opie stood beside him, his hand on his shoulder consolingly. A lump formed in her throat, of emotion and things unsaid. There was a lot she wanted to say; how sorry she was, how sweet Tommy was, that she would miss him, but she didn't know how to say them. And she didn't like that, in the end, words didn't change anything. So instead, she laid her own yellow flower down on the casket and she stepped back, leaning against her Uncle Clay, his hand patting her head comfortingly.

After the service, they all ended up back at the club, but it was somber, emptier than she ever remembered it being, and she spent much of her time sitting on a couch, staring at a toy car somebody hadn't put away, wondering if it was Tommy's and who would play with it now.

It'd be hours later when she found Jax out back, sitting against an old, rusted oil drum, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were ringed red and his jaw was clenched tight. He didn't say anything and she took his cue. Sitting down next to him, she stayed quiet and, after a few minutes, simply put her hand on his.

She knew he was crying, she could feel him trembling; every once in a while, she heard him sniffle. But she didn't bring attention to it, didn't tease him like she might have under different circumstances, she just sat with him until the sun set and Bobby came out to get them. So they climbed up from the dirt ground and walked back toward the club house, but just as she was about to open the door, Jax stopped her.

He didn't say anything, just stared at her a long second before he pulled her in for a hug. It was over as quickly as it started and then he was walking inside. She followed after him, wondering if she'd ever get used to death and its many victims.

* * *

_May 5, 1990_

It wasn't unusual of late to find JT drinking early in the morning. Chloe arrived at the club looking for Opie, but it looked like he and Jax had taken off earlier. As she approached, she found JT sitting at the bar, a cup in hand and a bottle of Jack half empty. She climbed up on to the stool next to him but didn't say anything, just resting her chin on her hand, flat against the bar, watching the arms tick by on the clock.

"Tommy liked you," he finally said, his voice raspy.

She looked over at him and smiled faintly. "I liked him, too."

"You were good to him. Nice, always played with him, watched him when we couldn't… Bit like an older sister to him, I guess."

"I tried to be."

He hummed, nodding, and reached for the bottle with a shaking hand, pouring himself another glass. "You remember, Chloe, when we talked about how death sometimes takes people?"

She nodded.

He let the bottle fall back to the bar with a clank and stared down into his glass at the amber liquid. "It's hard when ya have an enemy that ya can't fight…" He turned to look at her, his eyes a little glazed, dark bags underneath them. "I've got a whole army of guns and nobody to shoot."

"Is death always the enemy?" she wondered.

He smiled faintly. "Death is my friend when it takes my enemy and my enemy when it takes my friends." He lifted his glass in cheers and shot it back.

Chloe stared up at him, a man she'd always admired for his sharp and vast intelligence. "I'm really sorry about Tommy," she whispered.

"Yeah…" He swallowed thickly. "Yeah, me too."

It was a few minutes later that Chloe stood, capped the bottle, and circled around to the bar. She got out the coffee maker and plugged it in, preparing a pot, all while JT watched her at work. Finally, she exchanged his glass of whiskey for a mug of black coffee.

"I don't want you getting too friendly with death," she told him, pouring the whiskey down the sink drain, which was a metaphor more than anything since she was surrounded with more than enough bottles to replace it. "And I don't think Tommy would either."

His jaw flexed and he turned his eyes down to the coffee he reached for with his shaking hand. She covered it and wrapped his fingers around the mug.

"It's okay to be sad… Mom misses Gabe so bad sometimes she cries herself to sleep."

He looked up at her, his brow furrowed, and he nodded. "You're a smart kid, Chloe."

She grinned. "I grew up around some pretty smart people."

He laughed under his breath. "Don't tell Bobby that; it'll go to his head."

Resting her elbows on the bar, she watched as he lifted his coffee and took a long drink. She watched him thoughtfully before wondering, "Do you think you'll be okay?"

He stared back at her before digging a cigarette out, tucking it between his lips, and lighting it. " _This life has been nothing for me but pleasure. The worst adversity is only a length I measure_."

A smile played at the edges of her lips. "Michael McClure."

He winked at her. "Rare Angel, 1974," he agreed. "Smart, smart kid."

She sat with him until he finished his coffee and then challenged him to a game of checkers.

He still won, and she took that as a good sign. But in the end, it wouldn't be the last time she found JT getting drunk and the truth was, he never was okay again.

* * *

_February 6, 1990_

"Now, yeh promise not t' tell yer da' about this, right?" Chibs asked, turning his gun, a smooth, black Beretta, over in his hands.

She grinned up at him. Holding up two fingers, she told him, "Scout's honor."

He smirked toothily and turned to face the fence, where bottles were all lined up. "Now this gun in't like those BB guns you and yer brother been playin' with," he warned, playing with the safety. "This one's got kick and, if you're not holdin' it right, it's gonna kick yeh right in the face."

Nodding, she listened to him closely as he told her how to stand, how to aim, which way to grip the gun, to squeeze not pull the trigger.

At ten years old, Chloe learned how to shoot a gun. She shattered three out of the ten bottles Chibs set up for her and felt a weird sense of power with each bullet that left the chamber. For just a moment, it scared her. Not in the way that it might others, where they understood that guns could mean death, and she could accidentally shoot herself or someone innocent. No, it scared her in the way that she liked it. She liked the weight of it in her palm, the pressure each time she squeezed the trigger, the totality of what it meant.

When Chibs lined up another ten bottles, she shot four. On her sixth try, she got them all. And not for the first time, she felt like a true daughter of SAMCRO.

* * *

_April 1991_

"I'm telling you, the Mayans are expanding… I'm seeing their shit all over the damn place. We got junkies strung out in the goddamn super market. If I have to tell my kids one more damn time that it's just a bad flu goin' around, I'm gonna blown someone's brains out," Wally shouted.

"All right, all right, calm down," JT replied. "What proof do we have that it's the Mayans that are selling here?"

"I'm telling you it's them, brother," Chico sighed. "They're pushing me out, trying to keep it hush-hush, but they've been askin' around, they want to know who's dealing in Charming. They're already spreading down San Joaquin County and they're headed right for us."

"Thought we had a deal with 'em. You said you had 'em in your pocket," Clay grunted.

"Thought I did. But they know where my loyalties are; they gotta think about their club."

"If we do this, what you're talking about here is all-out  _war!_ " JT exclaimed.

Chloe leaned in closer as a tense hush fell over the room. She'd had to pick a lock to one of the bedrooms and press a glass up against the wall to hear them, but some things were worth the effort. Things had been tense for months, but none of the guys would let her in on what was happening. Now that she knew, her heart hammered in her chest. The Mayans were a predominantly Mexican motorcycle club that controlled Southern California and Nevada; their main export was drugs and it looked like they wanted Charming to be their next pit-stop.

"So let's say we  _do_ go to war, then what?" Piney wondered.

"You mean besides a jump in our casualty count?" Clay returned.

"I  _mean_ , what if war is the only way we keep these assholes out of Charming?"

Grumbles could be heard, discontent and uncertainty abounding.

"No, listen, these guys are pushing their way in whether we like it or not, so the only way we get them out is to push back… They didn't come knockin' on our days, askin' permission, they just rolled in and started sellin'. It sends a  _message_ … So we need to reply!"

"You guys need to remember what war means…" JT intervened before his club got too caught up. "We hit them, they hit back, and we have more than just ourselves to think about here. Most of us have families,  _kids_  to think about."

"That's who we're fighting for here too, JT! Those Mayans come in here and they're not gonna care  _who_ they're sellin' too! We'll have no control over who snorts what."

The arguing went on for a while, and Chloe listened intently to it all.

Finally, as the gavel hit the table, she left the room and walked right out the back of the club house. She ran all the way over to old Mister Baker's house, where she knew Opie was doing some yard work for him for a few extra bucks. She found him digging in the dirt, pulling up weeds in the back.

Coming to a stop next to him, she bent, hands on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. "We're going to war against the Mayans," she told him.

Sighing, he rubbed the back of his hand over his sweaty forehead and frowned. "This is going to be bad…"

She nodded.

He looked over his shoulder to make sure Mister Baker wasn't around or listening and then turned back to her. "You hear anything else?"

"Not everybody's happy about it. They're worried the blow-back might hit the families…" She shrugged. "Most of them don't think they have a choice though. Either we push back or we roll over and let them through."

He chewed his lip, casting his eyes around in thought. "Once they start, things are going to get rough around here."

Grimly, she said, "Bobby wants to attack this weekend."

"And?"

She grimaced. "There's a pretty good chance SAMCRO goes to war on Sunday."

They stared at each other a long moment.

Chloe didn't like to think about what it could mean, who it could take, if her dad or uncles would fill the casualty list, but it looked like now it would be all she was thinking of.

War broke out that Sunday. And it didn't stop for a long while.

* * *

_March 10, 1992_

Chloe was twelve years old when she was kissed for the first time. She was fairly sure it was a dare since, well, most people didn't ever try and kiss someone so heavily related to SAMCRO without their distinct permission first, and she definitely hadn't given that.

She was sitting on a bench at lunch, a book in her lap, her bag at her side, and no friends in sight. Truthfully, Chloe didn't have a whole lot of friends. At least, not many that were in school. Her brother was either always with Jax or hitting on whatever girl had drawn his eye that week. She didn't blame him. He was fourteen and hormonal and something about having his twelve-year-old sister around probably put a crimp in his plans. Besides, Chloe liked her solitude. Which was why she was more than a little surprised when a boy from a grade up, Matthew Something-or-Other, sauntered over from his group of friends, blocking her sun, and smirked at her.

She tensed at first. For nearly a year the Mayans and SAMCRO had been at war and she felt like she was always on edge. Sure, the boy in front of her was only thirteen, but he wasn't part of the club, and that meant she didn't trust him.

"Did you want something?" she wondered, her voice sharp, a brow raised.

He glanced once over his shoulder, where his friends busted out laughing again, and then turned back to her. "Yeah," he said, and then he leaned forward so quick she hardly had a chance to react.

His lips were wet; originally, the first word that came to mind was  _slimy_.

The kiss lasted all of three seconds, because her brain kicked in and she reared her head back. "What the  _hell!?_ " she exclaimed, one of her hands balling up into a fist to let him know just how much she  _didn't_ appreciate the attention.

But Matthew didn't get a chance to explain, and she didn't get a chance to sock him, because Opie, who'd been flirting with a pretty cheerleader not far away, had seen the whole thing.

Opie had hit his growth spurt the summer before and towered over Matthew by at least half a foot. He'd taken after their father in the height department and, while only six feet at the time, she imagined he'd gain another five inches to reach the same as their dad. More than that, Opie was strong. He wasn't built like a linebacker, but he was still dangerous. In part because he and Jax had been hitting the gym more in, what they called, "preparation" for being inducted into the Sons. So it was no surprise when Opie grabbed Matthew by the front of his shirt and yanked him in close, glaring down in his face, that Matthew lost all of his previous humor over the situation.

"Who the hell do you think you are, kissing my sister?"

"I—I—N-No! I—It—It wasn't like that! I—" Matthew stuttered.

"Really? 'Cause it looked like you walked right over here and planted one on her," Jax's lazy voice could be heard then.

Chloe tipped her head back to see him standing behind her, his hands braced on the back of the bench.

His lips were pressed into a firm line, his eyebrow raised. "You ask permission, Sutton? Or you just go around kissing whoever you want?"

Matthew, whose last name was apparently Sutton, turned to look at Jax and then Opie and finally, pleadingly, down at Chloe.

"Don't look at her, look at us," Jax ordered. "I asked you a question. Did you ask for permission before you kissed Chloe?"

"I- I—" He sagged, defeat filling his face. "No."

"See, then we got a problem here." Jax hopped over the back of the bench and took a seat next to Chloe, whose shoulders he wrapped an arm around. "We can't have you setting a precedent, Sutton… We let you get away with kissing Little Winston here and it gets other guys thinking it's open season…" He stared at him searchingly. "You see why we can't have that?"

He nodded jerkily. "But I won't! I- I won't kiss her again. I— It was a mistake. I didn't—"

"Now, don't insult her. That's not going to help you. I'm sure she was a great kisser. Weren't you, sweetheart?" He turned to grin at her.

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Jax."

"Is that any way to talk to someone who just saved your ass?"

She snorted. "It was a three-second kiss that I'll gladly forget all about." Standing from the bench, she grabbed up her book and her bag, and then turned to her brother and Matthew. "Don't break any bones and make sure he doesn't rat. You don't need a suspension on your record," she told him, waiting for him to nod.

Opie took a second, considered it, and then agreed to her stipulations. With that, she left.

" _Fight, fight, fight!_ " the cheer rang out behind her.

At the end of the school day, Matthew approached her, wearing two black eyes and a busted lip. He apologized for what he did and then ran off before she could say anything in return.

She wasn't surprised when Jax and Opie took it upon themselves to walk her home from school that day, or to find a way to be nearby for the next few weeks of lunch breaks. But the message had already gotten around and it was crystal clear. Unless they wanted to be confronted by Jax and Opie, nobody was giving Chloe a second look.

Unfortunately, she never did forget that kiss. Not because it was good or particularly memorable, but because that was the beginning of her adolescent life, the start of what would later become a pattern of relationships that never really got off the ground. Boys might like her, but they were far more afraid of her brother. So, she told herself it would be fine, she didn't even like anyone anyway. And, if she really wanted to date, she could wait until Opie finished high school and was no longer scaring off any potential suitors.

* * *

_May 15, 1992_

Chloe paused in the bar of the club, wincing. She'd been running on her way in, her footsteps loud, but thankfully they hadn't woken the man passed out before her. His hand was still curled around a bottle of whiskey, his head down, face buried in the crook of his arm. She tip-toed past him in the direction of the hall leading to the bedrooms; she and Opie had plans to go fishing.

This was the third day in a row she'd found JT like this; she wasn't even sure why she didn't expect it at this point. His drinking was getting worse, but he usually covered it better. If everybody else was drunk, then it didn't look so out of place that he was too. The men of SAMCRO were no strangers to drinking at odd hours or until they were well past drunk, but she knew what JT was doing was different somehow. She remembered the conversation they'd had about Tommy and she wondered if maybe he wasn't really coping at all.

"Hey."

Jumping, she whirled around, only relaxing when she found Opie grinning at her. "Shh!" she said, waving a hand and nodding her head toward JT.

He shrugged. "He won't wake up. Tig already walked through here singing and he didn't even flinch."

Chloe cringed. If there was one thing Tig was not, it was a good singer. He would wake the dead just so they could beg him to shut up. "Do you think he's all right?" she worried, peering at JT.

"He's alive." Opie handed her a fishing pole and started across the club. "He's just dealing, y'know?"

Chloe bit her lip and followed her brother out, casting one last look at her father's oldest friend before stepping out of the club.

They walked down the street, cutting across the elementary school field, and followed a dirt road down toward the lake. Opie whistled as they walked, comfortable with the lack of conversation. Chloe was eager to talk though. To her, JT represented a big portion of the club and the fact that something was wrong made her worried. Not just because he was a good man who she'd grown up with and looked for when she needed a guiding hand, but because if he fell apart, what did that mean for SAMCRO? When she voiced this to her brother, Opie frowned down at the ground, kicking a pebble.

"Whatever happens, SAMCRO won't fall apart," he told her. "It's a brotherhood and if we lose a brother, we honor him, we carry on for him."

"That's if he dies, Ope. Not if he just falls apart…" She looked over at him. "Do you think JT's going to die? 'Cause my teacher said drinking too much can kill a person."

He didn't answer right away, balancing his fishing pole behind his neck, his arms hung over it. "Dad said that losing a kid was one of the worst things that could happen. He said it wasn't something people just get over…" He looked at her. "Maybe JT won't be able to let go of Tommy."

"What about Jax?"

"Jax is tough; maybe JT doesn't think he needs his dad."

Chloe scowled. "Well, that's dumb! Jax loves his dad. He can't just leave him!"

Opie sighed. "I dunno… Dad just said that if he lost one of us, he'd be a  _crazy_  mess."

"Yeah, but… I wouldn't want dad to  _die_  just 'cause I did." She shook her head. "I wouldn't want anyone to die if I did."

"Well then don't die, dummy."

Rolling her eyes, she shoved him. "Shut up."

He half-grinned and threw an arm around her shoulders. "I don't know what's gonna happen with JT," he admitted. "But I hope he makes it… For Jax, at least."

"Yeah…"

Chloe took a deep breath and raised her chin. She smiled up at her brother and decided that this wasn't something they should dwell on. They couldn't see the future and maybe it would just take a while for JT to find his footing again. "Race you!" she said to Opie before taking off ahead of him.

"Cheater!" he laughed before bounding after her.

They spent the morning sitting on the dock, fishing poles in their hands, forgetting about everything and just enjoying themselves.

* * *

_October 30, 1993_

"What do you mean the Halloween party is cancelled? We have one every year!" Chloe complained.

"I know, baby, but it's just not safe right now," Gemma said, shaking her head. "Everybody in masks, we won't know who's who."

"This is stupid! Can't we just check faces at the doors?" She turned on her stool to follow the older woman as she moved around the club house from the bar to the pool table, collecting empty mugs, and back.

"And what, assume every Mexican is in with the Mayans?" she scoffed. "Don't let any of 'em in?"

"No…" She scowled. "That'd be racist."

"Well, how do you propose we figure out whether they're in with the Mayans or not?"

Her brows hiked. "They'll have tattoos, won't they?"

"So now you want me to strip search everyone who comes to the party?"

Chloe slumped in her seat.

Taking pity, Gemma leaned against the bar and patted her hair. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I know how much you love the parties…"

"I'm just sick and tired of this war," she sighed.

"We all are, trust me." Tucking Chloe's bangs away from her eyes, she said, "How about this? You and me dress up and we try that karaoke bar that just opened up? It'll probably be all god-awful country music, but it gets us out, right?"

A faint smile tugged at her lips. "That could be cool."

Gemma grinned, nodding. "Exactly. So we're good?"

"Yeah. Sorry I got so mad. I just…" She shook her head. "It's been two and a half years already…"

"I know, honey." She cupped Chloe's chin and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "Sometimes important things take time to happen."

"Well, I'm impatient," she muttered.

Gemma laughed. "I've noticed."

Still, the following night, she and Gemma went down to the karaoke bar and had a good time. Chloe forgot all about the lack of Halloween party as she sang terrible, cheesy songs from the 80's and danced on stage with a laughing, tipsy Gemma. If anything, it was just nice to have a girl's night. That was more than worth the Halloween party.


	4. Chapter 4

**[ ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary) **

**Part Four.**

_February 15, 1993_

Chloe rolled her eyes as she found who she was looking for; she recognized his bike parked outside the convenience store just across the road from the high school and had hoped, even though her brother's bike wasn't lined up next to it, that he was there, too. She was disappointed to find he wasn't.

Hands on her hips, Chloe cleared her throat, loud and demanding.

Slowly, Jax managed to pull himself away from his semi-permanent place stuck to Tara Knowles' face. Seriously, they were in the aisle. Chloe wouldn't exactly classify that as  _romantic_. Jax kept his arm around his girlfriend and took his time dragging his eyes away from her before finally settling them on Chloe.

"Hey," he said, giving her a nod.

Forgoing a greeting, she tapped her foot impatiently. "Have you seen Ope? He was supposed to pick me up after school. He said he'd give me a ride home..."

Jax frowned and reached up to scratch a hand at the nape of his neck. "I think he got a last minute job cutting Terry Hamilton's lawn."

"Are you serious?" she huffed. "Where the hell is all his money going that he's working his ass off day and night?"

Jax grinned at her. "It's going to a good cause, Little Winston. Don't worry your pretty little head." He reached over to tug on her hair but she slapped his hand away and glared for good measure. He merely chuckled under his breath.

Tara suddenly cleared her throat, drawing their attention back to her.

"Oh, right. Tara, this is Chloe. She's Opie's little sister," he introduced.

"Hi," Tara said, smiling at her.

"Uh-huh." She looked back at Jax. "Listen, I can't wait around for him to cut the lawn, so just let him know I headed straight home and not to worry, okay?" She turned on her heel to go, hefting her bag up higher on her shoulders. She'd just reached the door of the store, the bell ringing as she pushed it open, when Jax called after her.

" _Wait_ …" he sighed.

She looked back at him, brows furrowed.

"I can't let you walk home," he said, letting go of Tara. "Ope would kill me if I let you walk outta here alone. We've still got that…  _problem_  to worry about." He walked toward her, his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and turned to apologize to Tara. "Look, I'll drop her off and I'll come right back."

Tara nodded. "Sure, it's fine."

"Seriously, Jax, you don't need to do that. I can get home from here just fine," Chloe argued.

He frowned back at her. "Do me a favor and just don't argue with me on this?" He crossed the space between them and turned her to walk out the door, giving her back a small push to get her moving.

As the store's door swung closed behind them, she sighed to herself and followed him over to his bike. Both Jax and Opie had received bikes for their fifteenth birthdays and space at Teller-Morrow auto shop to fix them up to their liking. They weren't  _technically_  supposed to be riding them yet, as they wouldn't be legal driver's until they were sixteen, but since when did any of them actually follow the rules?

Jax took a seat on his bike and held his helmet out for her to put on.

"I'm like six blocks from here, I don't see what the big deal is," Chloe protested, but took it anyway.

"The Mayans see you, they'll run you down. Then I gotta stand by Ope while we bury you and somehow explain to him how I had a chance to get you home, safe and sound, but I didn't…" He looked over at her, his brows hiked. "You see how this might be a problem?"

"Things have been quiet with the Mayans." She took a seat on his bike and did up the strap on the helmet. "They've lost too many guys; they're probably going to forfeit any day now."

"Yeah?" He turned the bike on and revved the engine. "Well, until then, you're not going anywhere alone."

Chloe rolled her eyes, ready to remind him that she could handle herself, but Jax pulled away from the store abruptly and she snapped her mouth shut. Her arms wrapped around his waist and she let the buzz of air whizzing by mix with the growl of the bike engine filling her ears.

There was something about a bike that made her calm; maybe it was that she grew up around them or that the Winston family had a history of appreciation for motorcycles, but she felt peaceful when she was on a bike. She remembered long rides sitting just in front of her dad or one of her uncles, joy rides with Tig around Charming and past city limits. She remembered her hair blowing past her face and the roar of multiple engines tuning everything else out. It was beautiful. Serene in a weird sort of way.

Sitting on the back of Jax's bike felt different, however. There was something about riding behind Opie or Piney that just felt usual, it was comfortable. Having her arms around Jax's waist didn't feel the same. Not uncomfortable, but different. He smelled different, too. There was smoke and engine grease and something spicy under it all. She tried not to think about it too much and simply watched the scenery pass her by.

When Jax pulled up in front of her house, she climbed off, enjoying the faint buzz that reverberated through her legs still. Unclasping the helmet, she held it out to him. He plopped it on his own head without doing up the strap. "You think you can make it from here?" he teased.

"I think the short walk up the drive won't kill me, yeah," she returned, lips curled in a sarcastic smile.

He winked at her before revving the engine and pulling away, doing a u-ey so he could head back to where he came, returning to Tara.

Turning on her heel, Chloe walked up to her house and made her way inside. Her mom was passed out in the living room, so she bypassed her and went straight for her bedroom. She had homework to do; it would help pass the time.

The sun had set by the time Opie dropped by to apologize, making it up to her by taking her out for dinner and then swinging by the club. She never stayed mad at him long, and this time was no different. Besides, getting a ride from Jax wasn't the worst thing; not that she would ever admit that to anyone, even under pain of torture.

* * *

_March 7, 1993_

"New rule, if you don't have Opie with you, find Jax," Piney declared.

Chloe rolled her eyes, slumping in her seat. "This is totally unfair!" She waved a hand toward her brother and his best friend. "They don't need chaperones and they get into more trouble than me on a daily basis!"

"This isn't about cherry bombs in the school bathrooms or getting detention, Chloe. The Mayans are looking for a target and you make an easy one." He sat down on the chair adjacent to hers and reached over to pat her knee. "Just do me a favor and stick with the boys."

"Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I can't handle myself," she argued, her arms crossed over her chest. "Besides, Chibs and Clay both offered to teach me how to fight!"

"Yeah, well, a good right hook don't put up much of a fight against a gun," Jax called over, leaning back against the bar, his elbows resting behind him.

She glared witheringly at him and shifted forward in her seat. "What am I supposed to do? Hide behind them the rest of my life?"

"If it keeps you safe,  _yeah_ ," Piney told her, his face stern. "You're flesh and blood, kid. Get your head on straight and do what I tell you."

Chin jutted forward stubbornly, she shook her head. "Whatever." Pushing up off the couch, she stalked across the club and made her way outside, but since her two  _chaperones_ were still inside, she didn't leave the property. Instead, she made her way over to the main office of Teller-Morrow auto, hoping to vent to Gemma, the only woman she knew who would get why it was frustrating to live in an all-male world.

When the door sprang open, though, she was faced with JT, not Gemma. Sighing, she backed up, ready to turn around.

"Something wrong, Chloe?" he wondered, watching her curiously.

Biting her lip, she considered her options. JT wasn't a bad listener, but he  _was_ a man and she was decidedly not in the mood to talk to any of those.

When the club house door opened and she saw Opie and Jax looking around for her, however, she stepped into the office and closed the door behind her. Turning to face JT, she shrugged and took a seat on the couch against the wall. "Just dumb stuff."

"And what qualifies as dumb in your world?" he asked, righting a few typed up papers he had. It looked like the book he'd been working on for some time; probably the only book he hadn't encouraged her to read. Which, of course, made her that much more curious about it.

Picking at her nails, she stared at her hands. "This thing going on with the Mayans… Dad says I need to have Opie or Jax with me at all times." She scowled. "I can't even walk home from school without them!"

He hummed. "Okay… So, what's the problem?" He raised an eyebrow. "You've gotta admit, you spend most of your time with them anyway."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well, that's voluntary. Now I'm being forced to, even when I don't want to." She pouted her lips obstinately and slumped in her seat. "Look, I love Ope, but he spends half his time with his tongue down some cheerleader or another's throat and,  _frankly_ , I don't feel like watching that."

"So ask Jax to take you home when Opie's with his girlfriend," he offered.

Chloe laughed, her eyes wide. "You do know that he's got it bad for Tara Knowles, right? Those two are practically inseparable. I'm surprised he hasn't died of oxygen deprivation by now."

JT laughed under his breath and finally sat back in his chair, clasping his hands over his stomach and eyeing her thoughtfully. "What's this really about, Chloe?"

She chewed her lip and shrugged, staring at the floor.

"Okay, let me put it this way… What did you think Gemma was going to tell you when you came to see her?"

She looked over at him.

"That's who you were expecting to find here, right?"

She nodded.

"So? What advice do you think she would've had for you?"

Chloe gave it some thought, shifting in her seat. "She would've told me that I was just as capable as any of the guys and that it wasn't that I'm a girl, but because dad was worried about me… That it's dangerous right now, with this war going on, and that all of us are targets. So, I shouldn't take it personally. If anything, it's just because dad knows that if anything happened to me he'd never forgive himself and the Mayans know that going after the women is a good attack strategy…" She sighed, letting her head fall back. "And then she'd tell me about how much stronger and smarter women are and that everybody in this club would be lost without us."

He chuckled deeply. "That sounds about right." Reaching up, he scratched his fingers through his goatee, and sat forward in his seat seriously. "This thing with the Mayans, it's getting to all of us. We have to take precautions, not all of them easy or comfortable. We make sacrifices. For you, maybe it's having to put up with the boys when you'd rather be on your own. But when it comes down to it, what matters is that you're safe. It's  _not_  that you're a girl, Chloe. Not that we don't trust you or think you're strong in your own right… It's that you matter, you're  _cherished_ , and we just want to keep you safe."

She nodded, grudgingly. "You're no Gemma, but you're not half bad."

He grinned. "Glad I could help." He looked past her out the window and shook his head. "Looks like you're going to have to start sacrificing yourself earlier than expected… Jackson's figured out where you're hiding."

Rolling her eyes, she stood from the couch. "Wish me luck in martyrdom," she muttered, before reaching for the door and pulling it open.

"There you are," Jax sighed. "Look, we're heading over to Pat's. Figure you don't wanna head home yet, so…?"

"You're buying lunch," she told him and stepped outside.

Jax snorted. "Whatever you want, your highness."

As she walked past him, she bumped his shoulder. Rolling his eyes, he turned to walk with her.

JT watched through the window as Jax wrapped his arm around Chloe's neck and pulled her head down to give her a noogie. Shoving him off, she punched his shoulder and glared before running to get out of reach of him. Laughing, Jax chased after her, catching her around the waist and spinning her around. Opie crossed the cement then and joined them, completing the trio they'd made since they were toddlers. Chloe was let down to walk between them and the three teenagers left the comfort and safety of Teller-Morrow auto.

For all that the war had caused tension in the club, it seemed, for the most part, that the younger generation was still lighthearted and untouched by it. JT frowned to himself, worrying about a day when they wouldn't be so carefree.

It would come sooner than they expected.

* * *

_April 24, 1993_

When Bobby told her he was taking her on a little field trip, Chloe didn't know what to expect, but this wasn't on the short list.

"Okay, before we start, you ever seen C-4 before?" he wondered.

Chloe hiked her brows at him. "Pretty sure they don't hand it around in science class, so,  _no_."

He held up a block for her to see; it was off-white and looked like clay. "Your dad probably knows it. It was used in 'Nam a lot; sometimes even just to light a fire, keep warm."

Her lips pursed. "Doesn't it give off toxic fumes?"

He grinned toothily at her. "That's what these are for," he explained, handing her a mask.

Rolling her eyes, she took one and stepped back, watching as he worked, slowly inserting blasting caps. "This is safe, right?" she wondered.

He laughed under his breath before standing up and walking over to her. "As safe as explosives can be."

They moved to what he deemed a good distance before he started playing with a remote control. "Just so we're clear, this is one of those things we don't tell your dad about."

"You mean like that time we blew up that old shed because you said it would take more work to knock it down by hand?" she mused, her lips twitching.

"Yeah, or that time I caught you drinkin' a beer out back with Opie."

Eyes narrowed, she turned to face him. "What about that time you broke the stereo and blamed it on Tig?"

Hands on his hips, he raised an eyebrow. "You want me to bring up when you stole a box of cigars off Clay?"

"Then  _I_ 'd have to bring up when I walked in on you pulling a Risky Business in the middle of the club when you thought the guys were out of town." She smirked smugly. "They'd never let you live it down!"

Bobby sighed. "Did we come out here to compare notes or blow shit up?"

Shrugging, she admitted, "We obviously have too much dirt on each other; we should just call a truce and see what C-4 can do."

"Deal." He held a hand out for her to shake and then pulled his mask down over his face, waiting for her to do the same, before he pushed the button.

The explosion was loud and the fire roared up high and large, kicking up dirt and gravel and spraying it in every direction.

She grinned. "Awesome."

"Might just make a pyro outta you yet," Bobby said.

"That's really more your and Opie's style," she said, shaking her head. "But I can appreciate a good fire show."

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "Then you'll be happy to know I have a lot more C-4 to play with."

Chuckling to herself, she muttered, "Ope's gonna be so jealous…"

* * *

_May 3, 1993_

The Mayans were getting desperate. Chloe knew this not only because she'd been listening in on SAMCRO business, as per usual, but because she happened to be in the crossfire.

They cut to the chase and went for the weaker link. A bold move, really.  _Stupid_ , but bold all the same. And, if she really thought about it, she'd been warned this would happen, she just chose to ignore them.

After Opie failed to pick her up from school again, and deciding she didn't feel like finding Jax since it would likely mean prying him off of Tara, Chloe started walking toward the club house. She didn't really feel like putting up with her mom who, in recent months, had started mixing her prescription meds with alcohol. Besides, she really just wanted to relax. As she made her way down the sidewalk, avoiding cracks as she was prone to do when she was bored, she wondered if Tig would be around to play a game of pool. Lately, he'd been in and out of town a lot on club business and she felt like they needed to do some catching up.

She heard the loud, pulsing music before she saw them. A shiver went down her spine, her heart skittered in her chest, and a cold sweat broke out on her brow. She ducked her head, hoping to blend in somehow, and picked up her pace. She wasn't actually all that far from Teller-Morrow; she could make it if she ran. There were two possibilities here; they were after her to send a message or they were going to shoot up the club. Either way, she needed to get to the guys.

Swallowing tightly, she made her decision and broke out into a run, her legs pumping quick beneath her. She heard the squeal of tires as soon as she did and her heart hammered in her chest.

Chloe was fairly sure she'd never moved so fast in her life, her arms moving frantically at her sides. She curbed the immediate need to look back and see who was coming and instead focused on the destination. She could see the open gates of Teller-Morrow and was hit with a wave of both relief and dread. The loud clang and buzz of power tools might drown her out if she shouted too early, and worse it might spook the guys on her tail into shooting her before she ever got a chance to warn anybody.

Just as she reached the opening, stumbling around the corner, she gave a loud cry, " _MAYANS!_ "

In the same breath, they opened fire.

Chloe's arm suddenly lit up with pain, like fire licking at her skin. She cried out and hit the ground with a thud, her hands covering her head.

Power tools hit the deck and immediately guns were drawn on SAMCRO's side.

A beat-up blue car had stopped with a screech of brakes. Men wearing green bandanas hung out the window, guns pointed. Bullets fired rapidly, whizzing past her overhead.

Pounding footsteps approached, the snap-bang of bullets firing from various different guns still filling her ears. She stayed down, her whole body tensed.

The squeal of exiting tires told her the Mayans had packed up and left. A few of the SAMCRO boys ran past her, still shooting at the car as it raced away, while others stopped, kneeling beside her.

"There's blood!"

"Somebody find Piney!" Clay yelled.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ." Chibs put a hand on her shoulder. "Chloe? Yeh all right?"

Groaning, she pushed up with her hands, but stopped, hissing as her arm burned from the pressure. Using only one arm, she rolled herself over and stared up at the concerned faces peering down at her. "You get any of 'em?" she wondered.

Chibs broke out in a relieved grin, but JT shook his head as he looked her over. "You were hit."

"Just in the arm…" She looked over at it. "I think it's a flesh wound."

"It's a  _bullet_  wound." He knelt down, tucking his hands under her shoulders, and helped her sit up, letting her lean back against his knees.

"The hell are you doing out this way, anyway?" Tig wondered, pacing in a small circle as he stabbed an agitated hand through his curly hair. "You know the rules. You're not supposed to go anywhere alone."

Her lips pursed. He was right; Opie was supposed to be with her, but then, she was supposed to head home, not to the club. She wasn't sure she should say that, however. "Can I get back to you on that?"

"You're bleedin' pretty bad," Chibs noticed, tucking his cigarette at the corner of his mouth as he reached over to tear the sleeve of her shirt open so he could get a better look.

"Think it'll scar?" She stared down at it, blood oozing from the hole and dripping down her arm. She grinned up at them. "Gives more meaning to that whole 'don't shoot the messenger' thing, right?"

Bobby snorted. "Is that what you were? Couldn't hear what the hell you were shouting."

She wanted to shrug but didn't, grimacing when she imagined how much that would hurt. "I heard them coming a block back. I figured they were headed here, thought I should warn you…" She peered around at them. "As soon as I started running, they sped up."

JT traded a look with Clay, who gave a quick, jerky nod.

"Hey, no need for the secret silent-talk, guys. I know I might've been the target," she said calmly. "Either way, my options were the same."

They grudgingly agreed.

"Piney's gonna lose his shit," somebody muttered.

"He's on his way now." Chico shrugged down at her. "I tried callin' your momma, no one picked up."

She glanced away and frowned. "It's fine. I'll tell Moira later."

The boys started exchanging looks and she knew they were about to start asking what was going on at home, which was why, instead of being annoyed, she was actually relieved at the next interruption. Jax pulled into the shop on his bike, pulling his helmet off and barely taking the time to turn off his bike.

"What the hell happened?" he shouted. Pushing his way through the crowd, he found her sitting on the ground, still leaned back against JT. "Fuck," he breathed, falling to his knees next to her and reaching for her arm. "You got hit?"

"Barely," she assured, shaking her head.

"Barely, she says," Chibs scoffed. "Get 'er inside, I'll see what I can do about patchin' 'er up."

Chloe turned at the waist, pulling her feet up and pressing a hand down to get herself up, but it didn't end up helping much since Jax took it upon himself to haul her up into his arms, carrying her bridal-style toward the club.

"Hey!" she cried, her good arm wrapping around his shoulders. "My feet work just fine, you know!"

"Yeah, well your brain must be on the fritz then," he barked back, glaring. "What the hell were you doing out here anyway?"

Chloe opened her mouth to argue, but then realized that whatever she said might actually get Opie in trouble, so she snapped it shut and merely glowered at him.

He carried her through the bar and waited; Chibs directed him to one of the rooms while he grabbed his First Aid supplies.

As Jax put her down, he looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody could hear, and then turned back to her expectantly.

Sighing, she explained, "Opie didn't show up again. I didn't feel like going home, so I headed here instead."

His brow furrowed. "No, I saw Ope after school. He said he'd be there to get you as soon as you were done."

She shook her head. "I don't know. I walked out, he wasn't there. I waited around for twenty minutes and when he didn't show, I started walking."

"Well, why didn't you find me? I was just down the road at Pat's diner."

She rolled her eyes. "I can't read your mind, Jax. I don't know where you are at any given moment. And besides, I didn't think it was that big of a deal."

His eyes widened as he leaned in, his hands braced on either side of her. "You have a fucking  _hole_ in your arm, Chloe."

"A very tiny one."

He blew out an exasperated breath and reached up to press his fingers against his eyes. "What happened? Tell me everything."

Chloe took a deep breath and explained all about the Mayans rolling up on her. He got the same expression the other guys had and she immediately said, "Yeah, I know, they might've been aiming for me. It would send just as much a message if they took out one of the family." She swung her legs back and forth. "They're getting desperate."

"Yeah, and desperate people do dumb ass things," he said, his tone hard.

She stared at him a long moment. His whole frame was tense; he kept rocking forward on his heels. She imagined he wanted to hurt somebody and hated that he wasn't there when the shooting broke out. Even at only fifteen, Jax was SAMCRO through and through. He didn't even have the cut yet, but he loved and protected the club as much as any of the original nine.

"I'm fine," she assured him. "Chibs will patch me up and I'll have a story to tell later."

He turned, looking at her searchingly, before finally he gritted his teeth and shook his head. "You don't go anywhere alone anymore, and no excuses this time," he ordered. "I'll park my ass outside that school every day. If Opie shows up, fine, he can take you. If not, then you're stuck with me." She opened her mouth to argue, but he pointed a finger at her. "Non-negotiable."

Chibs entered the room then, pausing as he looked between them. "Little lover's spat then, kids?"

"No, we're done here. Get her fixed up." Jax backed up toward the door. "I'm gonna find Ope."

Chloe watched him go, frowning all the while.

"Don't take it too hard, sweetheart. He'll come around." Chibs cut back her sleeve even further, rolled the extra fabric off her arm and tossed it in the direction of the garbage can. "You know how he gets about people he loves."

"Yeah," she muttered absently. "Whatever." She looked down at her arm, where he was cleaning the wound up with alcohol and cotton balls. "No amputation then?"

He grinned, making his scars stand out even more. "Not this time."

"Not bad for my first bullet wound, right?"

He shook his head. "You're yer father's daughter."

Preparing the rest of his supplies, as he was going to have to pull the bullet out before he patched her, he hummed a song under his breath as he worked. Chloe let it soothe her. Unlike the heavy rock the rest of SAMCRO liked to blast, Chibs was fond of singing some of his favorite Scottish lullabies, learned as a child from his mother.

He offered her a shot of whiskey to help her nerves as he picked up his tweezers to dig the bullet out and she took it, knocking it back quick and coughing as it burned.

He laughed lightheartedly and braced a hand under her elbow to keep her arm still. "This is gonna hurt," he warned.

"Let's call it a learning experience," she muttered and turned her eyes away as he started rooting around for the bullet.

Hurt was an understatement and the whiskey didn't kick in fast enough. Having him dig was like liquid fire being poured on her arm, every nerve ending lighting up as he searched. Chloe let out a shout of pain and gripped the edge of table she sat on. Tears bit at her eyes and she felt herself trembling. It seemed to last forever; she honestly couldn't say how much time had passed, but it was more than enough. He managed to find and pull out the bullet, dropping it in her empty shot glass with a clink.

Blood had started flowing from her arm once more, coating her down to the elbow.

Before Chibs could clean it away, Piney came rushing into the club house. The door banged against a wall as he entered the make-shift medical room. He took one look at her arm and went so red in the face he was nearly purple.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Chloe blurted out.

He opened his mouth to start shouting, but that was the exact moment that Opie entered the club too, looking around nervously.

"Shit," Chloe muttered as Piney turned on his heel and started toward her brother.

She moved to stand up, wanting to chase after them, but got dizzy as her feet hit the ground.

"Whoa, easy does it, missy," Chibs warned. "You've still got a hole in yeh."

"Is she all right?" Opie asked, looking at his father worriedly.

"She's been  _shot!"_  Piney shouted. "No, she is  _not_  fucking all right!" He stabbed a finger at Opie's chest. "Where the fuck were you!?"

"I—I got caught up. I thought I had time. I just stopped at O'Donnell's house to clean the gutters." He shook his head quickly. "Chloe usually takes longer when she's at the newspaper. I didn't think—"

"You're damn right you didn't think!" he interrupted harshly. "The Mayans came rushing up here, shot her down, and took off, and where were you when I told you not to let her out of your sight? Cleaning  _goddamn_ gutters! Are you fucking with me?"

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't—"

Piney did something then that Chloe never imagined he would. He reared his hand back and slapped Opie so hard he stumbled back a few steps.

Her hand raised to cover her mouth in shock.

Opie kept his head down, his teeth gritted.

"She could be dead right now. I hope you think about that the next time you're elbows deep in someone's gutters."

"That's  _enough!_ "

Every head in the club house turned toward her and Chloe stepped forward, staring her father in the eye. "Opie screwed up, yes, but he's not the only one. I should've found Jax for a ride, I should've gone straight home, and I didn't." She shook her head. "It was just as much my fault as his." She moved right up in front of him. "I get that you're worried about me, it was a close call, but you can't lay this on Opie's shoulders."

Piney took a deep breath, standing to his full height in righteous anger. "He—"

"Would be devastated if I'd died. Just as much, if not  _more_ , than you," she cut him off. "He'll never forgive himself as it is." She raised her chin and met his hard gaze unflinchingly. "You want someone to blame, blame me or the Mayans, but you leave him out of it."

Piney stared right back before finally, he barked, "She's bleeding all over the floor, get her patched up,  _now_." With that, he turned and stomped off.

Chloe released a heavy breath, turning her head to watch him go.

Chibs' hand found her good shoulder and encouraged her back into the room so he could finish what he'd started. She glanced over at Opie, whose long hair was covering half his face as he stared at the floor, before closing the door and retaking her seat.

It didn't take too long for Chibs to get her wrapped up, his hands gentle and his eyes worried as she sat silently before him. To cheer her up, he waved the bullet at her and grinningly offered, "Souvenir?"

She laughed under her breath and took it from him, tucking it in her jeans pocket. As she hopped down off the table, she followed him back out into the club. The guys, all a little drunker than they'd been when she arrived, raised their beers in cheers.

Chloe rolled her eyes at them and moved to the bar, tapping her fingers on it. "Is my dad here?"

Bobby shook his head. "He took a ride; clearing his head."

She nodded, sighing to herself.

"Think Opie's out back though, half-way through a bottle of Jack and shooting at targets."

She half-smiled, expecting no less from her brother. "Thanks."

Pushing off the bar, she made her way to the door leading outside. It was still bright out, the sun low and casting a warm glow.

Opie had a bottle in one hand and a BB gun in the other. He was pacing, back and forth, his head down, hair shrouding his face.

She took a seat on the wood stairs leading down to him and just watched. He was clearly upset, and she got that. He would blame himself for what happened, go through all the 'what if' outcomes, and still end up at the conclusion that if he'd just been there, she wouldn't be hurt.

"I don't blame you," she said, interrupting his train of thought.

He paused, lifting his head to look at her. One side of his face was still red; she was a little worried it might bruise. "You should," he said, his voice hoarse, whether from the whiskey he was drinking or the heavy emotion of the situation she wasn't sure.

Rolling her eyes, she stood up, walking toward him. "Ope, did you not hear what I said to dad?" She stared up at him earnestly. "I messed up, too. But, you know what? What can you really expect?" She waved a hand behind her. "Everybody in there has been shot before and they'll probably get shot again."

He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut before he shook his head. "Chloe, you're not SAMCRO. You— You're Piney's daughter. You're not one of the women who hangs around here, looking for an old man to keep her. You're just a kid. You were just born into this."

"This club is my family! Am I always going to be around here?  _No_ , probably not. But for right now, this is my safe haven. So, yes, they're not the most law-abiding citizens, and  _yes_ , they're at war with drug dealers who are  _really_ lousy shots, and okay, sure, I got shot, but… This doesn't change anything for me. My dad, my brother, my friends, my  _family_ are SAMCRO." She half-grinned. "If anything, I just earned a stripe."

He frowned, but his shoulders relaxed with relief. Wrapping an arm around her, he pulled her in for a hug, bowing his head so his chin rested stop her hair. "Just… do me a favor and don't get hurt again."

Laughing, she hugged his waist with her good arm. "You want me to lie to you?"

" _Please_."

She nodded. "I'll never get hurt again, Ope…"

Chances were, given the life they lived and the people they knew, she would, but he needed to think different, so she let him.

They went back inside, with her taking the gun from him and putting the safety back on, and she joined him at the pool table, where Jax was waiting to beat him at a game.

She took the friendly ribbing the guys handed out to her, good-naturedly accepting their pats on the back and teasing. It was some time around nine when Piney showed back up, a little less pissed but just as protective as ever. He pulled Chloe in for a hug when she was mid-conversation with Tigs, squeezing her close and kissing her forehead. He didn't have to say it; his apology, his anger, his worry, were clear. And finally, he turned to Opie, nodding before he gave his son a quick, hard hug.

All was forgiven.

Well, just so long as they never let her out of their sight, which they all were quick to agree to, regardless of her protests.

* * *

_May 31, 1993_

Chloe rolled her eyes as she left the school, walking down the steps to find Jax sitting on his bike, waiting for her. Opie had been there every single day before, with Jax not far behind, just in case.

"Opie find another job?" she wondered as she walked up, hiking her bag higher on her shoulder.

"One of his neighbors offered him fifty bucks to clean out their garage," he explained, holding out a helmet for her.

"And you didn't have anything better to do than wait around here?"

He grinned, shaking the helmet expectantly.

Rolling her eyes, she took it. Taking a seat behind him, she wrapped her arms carefully around his waist; her wounded arm still felt a little stiff.

They pulled away from the curb and onto the road, but Jax didn't take her home. Instead, they just drove around Charming for a while, in no hurry to get anywhere. Chloe could fully admit that there was very little that she enjoyed more than the open road. Writing for the paper was a close second, even if she didn't cover much more than the sports section or the cafeteria menu. She loved writing and that was all that mattered. But being on the back of a bike, feeling the hum underneath her, the growl of the engine struck her directly in the heart.

She rested her chin on Jax's shoulder and just watched the scenery pass them by. He drove them all around Charming before finally pulling into the parking lot of Pat's diner. Her legs were vibrating when she climbed off his bike.

"It handles well," she told him, unclipping the helmet.

"Yeah, she's smooth. Bumpy when I first got her, but a few hours in the shop, tightening a few things, exchanging some of the older parts, and she's like brand new." He smiled down at his bike appreciatively and Chloe rolled her eyes fondly. Men and their bikes.

Walking toward the diner, she didn't bother waiting for him to catch up. She waved at Rosie, the waitress behind the cash register, and walked down to the booth she and Piney shared every Sunday. Jax wasn't far behind and took a seat directly across from her, spreading his arms out over the back of the booth.

Rosie stopped at their table for drink orders while Chloe handed Jax a menu and looked at her own. "I'll get a strawberry milkshake."

"Just a Coke," Jax told the waitress before turning his gaze back to the menu, scratching his temple absently.

Deciding on what she was having, Chloe put her menu away and turned her head to stare out the window, her elbows resting on the cool table top. There were a few kids walking down the sidewalk on the other side, another just ahead of them on a skateboard. She briefly thought about how different their lives probably were to hers and wondered if she would have been bored living theirs.

"Here you go. You guys know what you want?" Rosie asked, setting their drinks down.

Chloe wrapped a hand around the tall glass of her milkshake. "Cheeseburger and fries, no relish, please," she answered.

Rosie nodded, scratching it out on her order pad.

"Bacon cheeseburger with onion rings, keep the relish," Jax said next.

"You got it." Walking off, she called out the orders to the cook in the back.

Chloe chewed on the end of her straw and picked up the maraschino cherry from the whipped cream on top of her milkshake. She offered it to him, dangling it in his direction, the stem pinched between her fingers. She snorted when he leaned forward and caught it with his mouth, using his tongue to get it. He tugged the stem off and chewed, twisting it around absently.

"Where's Tara?" Chloe wondered.

He shrugged. "Homework or something, I dunno."

She sucked on her straw, watching him as he frowned at nothing in particular. "Are you guys fighting?"

He offered a faint, sarcastic smile. "Shit happens."

She raised an eyebrow. "Hey, your problem, I'm just offering to listen."

Jax sighed, reaching a hand up to run through his hair. "It's nothing, it's dumb. She just…" He shook his head. "I dunno.  _Girls_ , y'know?"

"I have almost fourteen years of 'knowing', yeah..."

With a snort, he picked up his glass and took a long drag. Licking his lips, he set it back down and looked out the window, tapping his fingers on the table. "Sometimes I think we just come from different worlds. And maybe… Maybe she's never gonna fit in mine."

"Has she tried to fit?"

He shrugged. "She gets along with Opie."

"What about JT or Gemma? Has she met them?"

He shook his head.

"Do you want her to?"

He turned to look at her and then offered a half-grin. "You know my parents; how do you think they'd react to Tara?"

"Honestly…" She blew out a long breath. "I think your mom would be protective, suspicious, and she'd do her best to scare Tara shitless."

He laughed under his breath. "Yeah, she would."

"But it'd be a test. So if Tara passes it, if she can stand up to Gemma, then she'd ease up a little. I'm not saying she'd welcome her with open arms, but… Gemma needs to know whoever you're dating is worth you, and she's not as easy to please as you are."

He glared at her, but there was no heat to it.

Chloe merely grinned and took another drink of her milkshake. "So, is that it? You and Tara are fighting because you're worried she's not going to get along with the club?"

"Not just the club; it's my whole life. She doesn't get it. She doesn't get the cut or the brotherhood or working at the shop instead of going to college." He sat forward, staring at her with wide eyes. "She's already looking at college applications, Chloe, and I… I'm not that guy."

She stirred her straw and hummed. "Which is it then? Is it that you don't think you measure up to what she wants or that she's never going to fit in with you? Do you want her to stay or do you wish you could go?"

He stared at her seriously. "I've always known what I wanted. It's always been SAMCRO for me. This is where I'm supposed to be."

She nodded. "Okay. So, just enjoy it while it lasts. It'll be a few years before she leaves for college; don't put labels or expectations on it."

"That's it? That's your big advice?" He snorted. "Take it one day at a time? What is this, AA?"

Smirking, she said, "That's all I got, Jackie-boy. Take it or leave it."

He shook his head, smiling to himself. "You're a real peach, Winston."

She winked at him.

Reaching over, he stole her milkshake and took a long drag.

"Hey!" she complained.

Licking his lips clean, he pushed it back to her, smug and amused.

"Last time I give you advice about girls," she muttered.

He chuckled under his breath.

Rosie came back with their food then and they were suitably distracted. Jax took it upon himself to trade half of her fries for half of his onion rings and they sat back to eat amicably, occasionally talking about the club or family or what Opie was up to. Sitting there, Chloe had to wonder when it was that Jackson Teller stopped being the enemy that stole Opie away from her to being an actual friend.

Then he stuck a fry in some ketchup and smeared it on her nose and she remembered that, yeah, he still sucked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I still have 30k of this on my computer. It hasn't been an issue of not writing. It was more that I just wasn't making time to edit it. Sorry for the long wait. I'll try to avoid that next time. We're getting into Chloe's teen years, which is awesome. She's 13 in this chapter and turning 14 in the next one, I believe. And soon enough we'll be adding the awesome personality of Lois (who is not her cousin in this 'verse) to the mix, so that'll be a ton of fun!
> 
> Thank you so much to **royuki** and **edia** for reviewing the last chapter! I really appreciate it!
> 
> I hope you're enjoying this! Please leave a review! They're my lifeblood.
> 
> \- **Lee | Fina**


	5. Chapter 5

[ ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary)

_June 15, 1993_

Chloe glared at the book in front of her. She had her final exam for math next week, but she'd never hated a subject more. When the door cracked open, her head raised to see who might be ignoring her not so subtle 'stay-the-hell-out' sign she'd taped to the door. She was using the club meeting room to study. Moira was being weird at home, wandering around, fiddling with things, mumbling to herself. And the guys were currently playing pool, a full-blown betting system set up, so it was loud, to say the least.

JT stepped into the room, closing the door behind him before walking down to sit at the end of the table, his usual spot presiding over church. He dropped a glass of whiskey down in front of him and sighed.

Chloe dropped her attention back to her book, absently scratching her arm.

"How's it healing?" he asked.

"Fine. Barely notice it anymore."

He half-smiled. "I've had my fair share of bullet wounds… You either get used to them or they always surprise you."

She raised her eyes to meet his and wondered, "Is either better?"

He shrugged. "It's a good question, just not one I can answer."

Chloe hummed. "Would you change it if you could?"

"Getting shot?"

She nodded.

"I don't know… Some of them, maybe. When, uh, when I got back from the war, things were different. Didn't get the reception I expected. Kind of felt like all those wounds were wrong, not something to be proud of."

"What about the ones from SAMCRO?"

He smiled, but his eyes were distant. "Some of those were worth it, but others…" His smile faded as he sighed. "You ever do something and then… question yourself. You think you're doing the right thing for the right reasons or, hell, even thewrong thing for the right reasons, and then… Something happens and you realize that you shouldn't have. That you've ruined it somehow."

Chloe stared at him.

He laughed bitterly under his breath. "I think I rely too much on you sometimes." He tipped his drink at her. "Not everybody gets my existential crisis."

"Is there any way to fix it?" she wondered.

"I don't know," he mused. "I've considered the possibility that I'm not the person who will fix it… That maybe I'm not qualified to."

Her brow knit. "But if you broke it, isn't it your responsibility?"

JT's lips curled down at the corners. "There are a lot of things that I was responsible for that I let down… I'm not sure I could fix all of them if I tried."

" _Have_ you tried?"

With a sigh, he mused, "You always ask the hard questions…"

She grinned. "My editor says that I'm one of her best journalists."

"You should keep up with it; make a career out of it." He nodded, sitting forward. "I think you'll do great things."

She warmed at his praise.

"Is that math?" he wondered, nodding toward her book.

She scowled at the reminder.

Chuckling under his breath, he held a hand out for it. "I'm not too bad at it, if you want some help."

"Gladly," she agreed, handing it over.

They spent the next two hours prepping her and, later that week, when she walked out of her exam, she had the best score she'd ever gotten on a math test. She decided that even if JT thought he only broke things, she was living proof that he helped fix at least something, even if it was as minor as her ability to grasp math.

* * *

_July 29, 1993_

Chloe's fourteenth birthday was celebrated at the club house. Her one, and only, friend outside of the club, Jenny Tate, who worked on their school paper with her, begged off coming. While Chloe didn't make a habit of letting people know she was related to SAMCRO, some of the locals knew, and she would put money on Jenny being too scared to get involved. She wasn't too worried about it though. Sitting on top of the bar, feet balanced on a stool, she watched all of the most important men of her life fill the room.

John stood with his wife, his long dark hair hanging past his shoulders, a warm grin playing at his mouth, his arm around Gemma's shoulders. He raised a beer at the youngest Winston, saluting her. She raised her own back. Truth be told, even though her dad handed her a beer and dubbed it her first, she'd had her first drink when she was eight, even if it was just a sip that she didn't like, and her first whole bottle when she was thirteen. The bitter taste still made her nose wrinkle a little, but she was getting used to it.

Bobby was trying to light the candles on her cake, a cigarette dangling from his lips and probably dropping ash all over the icing. Chibs was putting all the presents in one neat pile on a nearby table, nodding to something Clay was saying as he manned the bar. Uncle Tom was waving his hands around as he talked to "Big Otto" Delaney, who Chloe was half-sure only smiled when Luanne was around. Chico and Tig seemed to be comparing guns, and probably stories, off to the right. She briefly wished Uncle Lenny was around, but he'd been away in Stockton State Prison since '89. A few prospects hung around, but, aside from Bobby and Chibs, Chloe didn't often spend much time around them until they had cuts. She'd long learned that it wouldn't do any good to call them family if they never became Sons. Last, but not least, Opie and Jax made their entrance. Her brother had the biggest present of them all balanced between his hands, which he handed over to Chibs to add to the rest. Jax handed over a much smaller box before they walked over to meet her. Leaning back, she grinned at Clay, who winked in reply, as she grabbed two more beers. She held them out for Ope and Jax as they met her and chuckled under her breath as they all clinked bottle necks in cheers.

"All right, all right, everybody settle down," Piney shouted, drawing attention.

Uncle Tom leaned over and cut the music so they could all hear better.

"As you're all familiar, today's Chloe's fourteenth birthday," he started.

A cheer rang out.

He waved his hands to quiet them again, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'm gonna make this short and sweet." He turned to face her. "Kid, you're a pain in my ass most days, you're too damn curious for your own good, you handle a gun better than half the assholes in this joint, and you're the best woman in my life." He nodded at her. "I made a lot of mistakes in my life, but you for sure ain't one of 'em."

Chloe beamed at him, blinking quickly when her eyes burned. She reached for a hug and squeezed him tight as he kissed her hair.

As he stepped back, Piney cleared his throat and turned around. "For Christ's sake, Bobby, you've been trying to light the damn cake for a half hour already!"

"I almost got it!" he assured, nodding.

Rolling her eyes, Chloe took a pull of her beer and sat back.

"Get out of here, I'll do it," Gemma said, pushing everyone away from the cake.

Less than a minute later, the club house was filled with the most off-key rendition of Happy Birthday to ever be sung.

Chloe handed her beer over to Jax, tucked her hair behind her ears, and blew out thirteen of her fourteen candles. As cake was still being handed out, Chibs demanded that presents be opened and already started handing them over.

She wasn't at all surprised to find that ninety percent of her gifts were either stolen, illegal, or just plain weapons, meaning they were probably both stolen  _and_  illegal. She did, however, like that she received an IOU from the boys for her first tattoo, whenever she wanted to redeem it. Everyone was sure to offer up their suggestions on what she should get. Gemma gave her a card with some cash and a promise to take her shopping for something nice. John gave her a book of his favorite beatnik poets, which she grinned at happily; her favorite conversations were ones that JT started off with some insightful quote or another. Opie's present, though, outdid everyone else's.

He got her a typewriter. It wasn't brand new, but instead looked like it had quite a few years on it, just short of antique. "It still works, I made sure," he told her, shifting his feet uncertainly. "It's got all the buttons and new ink. I got some paper for it, too."

Chloe realized suddenly why he'd been working so much lately, cleaning up at the club and doing odd jobs around the neighborhood; it was to make sure he could get her this, paid for all on his own.

"Ope, I…" She was speechless. "This is  _awesome_ , thank you!"

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "I know how much you like to write, so…"

"It's  _perfect_ ," she declared.

Chloe was still riding the high of her typewriter, and probably a few too many beers, when Jax handed her his present. He hopped onto the bar to sit next to her as she untied the lopsided bow.

"It's, uh, nothing fancy," he warned, scratching his chin. With a grin, he added, "And you probably can't kill anybody with it."

She snorted. "Trust me, I think I have plenty of weapons."

"You can never have too many." he snorted.

"Oh, I beg to differ…" She nodded her head toward a black leather case. "Did you see the knife Tig got me? It's even got an ankle strap."

"Yeah, he get it engraved, too?"

"Just the box. He said engraving the knife could leave evidence if I ever use it."

Humming, Jax nodded agreeably, taking a drag off his cigarette.

Popping the top off the box, Chloe moved the tissue aside and paused when her fingers found a chain. Pulling it up and out, she found a silver pair of dog tags before her, glinting in the low bar lights. The familiar reaper was tattooed on the front of one, while the other read:

 _Chloe Anne Winston  
Daughter of SAMCRO  
_ _7/29/79_

"Are you preparing for the chance you have to identify my body, Jacky-boy?" she teased.

He rolled his eyes, blew out a cloud of smoke. Taking the chain from her finger, he fit it over her head and tugged until it hung down her chest. "Don't joke about that shit, huh? The Mayans got the drop on you once, what's to say they won't again?" He raised an eyebrow down at her.

She fingered her necklace and bumped his shoulder. "Careful, you're just short of sentimental."

He snorted, wrapping an arm around her shoulders loosely. "You like it?"

She stared down at the reaper with fondness. "It's great," she answered sincerely. Grinning, she added, "And I could probably choke someone with it if I got desperate."

Laughing, he grabbed up his beer and offered her hers, clinking them together in cheers.

Together, they turned their attention back to the club, most of whom had returned to eating their cake. There was something about the toughest men she'd ever known wearing blue icing around their mouths that made the whole thing just this side of ridiculous.

She wouldn't change a thing.

* * *

_September 8, 1993_

Chloe hitched her backpack higher on her shoulder and reached for her locker comm. She flinched when her neighbor two doors down gave their locker a quick, irritated kick. She turned her head to find a tall brunette, her long, straight hair pulled up into a high ponytail.

"Piece of crap… Who the hell can even read this chicken scratch?" she muttered.

Chloe's lips twitched. "Hey, you need some help?" she offered, walking over. "I'm Chloe, by the way."

The girl looked over, a brow quirked. "Can you read this?" She handed over her wrinkled class schedule.

"You're new," she said, reading the name at the top and skimming the classes. Lois Lane was a grade ahead of her but taking a few of her classes all the same.

"Yeah." She snorted. "Third school in two years."

"Move around a lot?"

"Dad's in the army, kind of have to."

She grinned. "Yeah? My dad was a paratrooper in the Vietnam War!"

"No kidding?"

Nodding, Chloe reached out and put the numbers into the comm., twisting it around until it popped open. "He doesn't serve anymore. Now he's more of a mechanic, but he tells stories sometimes."

"Yeah, my dad's all about the stories." Lois pulled the door open and pushed her army green bag inside. "Hey, what's your schedule like? Are we in anything together?"

Chloe nodded. "Yeah, we've got Spanish. Which is first class today, actually." She raised a brow. "You're a day late, you know that, right?"

"Couldn't be helped. My sister threw a fit and refused to leave our old house. It's a thing. She's kind of… How do I say insanely self-involved in a nice way?"

Snorting, she shook her head. "I'm not sure there  _is_ a nice way."

Lois shrugged. "Well, then she's just insanely self-involved." Grabbing out a few books, she hooked them under her arm and closed her locker.

Chloe walked back to hers, grabbing out a pen so she could write on Lois' schedule a more legible form of her comm. code and then grabbed out her own books.

"What about you? Got any siblings to make fun of?" Lois wondered as they started walking down the hall.

She nodded and cast her eyes around, finally setting them on her brother, leaning against his locker, arms crossed loosely over his chest, nodding his head to something his latest girlfriend was saying. Beside him, Jax was going through his books, his brow furrowed, a cigarette tucked behind an ear and a pen dangling from his lips.

Chloe pointed. "The tall one's my brother Opie, the blond one is his best friend Jax."

Lois peered over at them, her brows hiking. "How inappropriate would it be to tell you your brother's a fox?"

"Very," she answered, but her lips twitched with amusement.

She wrinkled her nose. "The blond one's not half bad either, but I'm trying to get over the bad boy shtick."

"I'll be sure to pass it on," she muttered wryly.

"So, what's there to do in Charming anyway? We got in kind of late last night, so I didn't see much."

"There's not much to see. It's mostly a family-run town, I guess. Small shops, a lot of business owners. Charming's just kind of one of those places you grow up in. Not a whole lot of people go out of their way to move here."

"Color me special then."

They were halfway down the hall when the boys caught up, surprising them.

"Look at you, making friends," Jax said, offering a grin. "I was starting to think you didn't know how."

Chloe elbowed him. "Maybe that's because I grew up pitying Opie he had to put up with  _you_. Why put myself through that pain?"

"You always go right for the heart, Little Winston." He hooked an arm around her shoulders and nodded toward Lois. "Who's the fresh meat?"

"She doesn't look like a freshman," Opie piped in, hands tucked into his pockets.

"His observation skills are top notch," Lois said.

"The next Sherlock Holmes, absolutely," Chloe agreed.

"She found a snarky one," Jax mused.

"It's a talent." Chloe hip-checked him. "Now if you'll excuse us, we have Spanish… Get lost,  _por favor_." She raised an eyebrow at them. "Don't you two have a History class you should be getting to?"

Jax rolled his eyes up at Opie. "You gotta stop letting her memorize your schedule."

"She stole it," he argued. "Uncle Tom taught her too well."

He sighed, looking over at them.

A grinning Chloe waved goodbye over her shoulder, while Lois sent them a dismissive smirk.

"This is good, right?" Opie wondered. "She needs friends."

"She's got us," Jax argued, frowning.

"Yeah, well, you're a little busy with Tara, aren't you?"

He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm just saying, if she needed somebody to hang with, I'm open."

Opie snorted. "I'll pass it on." Leaving it at that, he started walking in the other direction, headed for History.

Jax followed after him. "Let's just keep an eye on this chick. We don't know who she is."

"Yeah," he muttered sarcastically. "I'm sure the Mayans paid some girl to gain Chloe's trust. Because they plan ahead like that."

"I'm just saying we shouldn't trust her off the bat…" Jax shook his head. "We promised we'd look out for her."

Opie sighed. "And we are, but if she's making a real friend, we should let her."

"We don't know if she's a real friend yet."

"You're getting way too suspicious, man. You need to quit hanging out with Tig."

Jax snorted. "I'm still gonna make sure this chick is okay."

"You do that."

Muttering under his breath, Jax followed him into History class, deciding he'd spend lunch with the girls, find out what the deal was with this new chick. Chloe probably wouldn't appreciate it, but she'd get over it. She always did.

* * *

_September 17, 1993_

"So what are the odds we can ditch the boys and play hookie today?" Lois asked, leaning back against the bank of lockers next to Chloe's, her thumbs hooked in the loops of her jeans.

Chloe grinned at her, taking her books from her bag and stacking them on her locker shelf. "We're two weeks in and you already want to ditch?"

Shrugging, she said, "School's not really my niche. Going down to the lake and sunbathing…? Now  _that_ I can get behind!" She hip-checked her. "And since you usually disappear on me on weekends, I'm thinking today's a good day to just hang out."

Chewing her lip, Chloe considered the offer. She would be busy tomorrow with Piney in the morning and then, yeah, Lois was right, she spent most of her weekend at the Club, which wasn't a place she'd really introduced Lois to yet. As far as Lois knew, Chloe spent most of her time hanging out at the auto shop that her dad worked in. Lois was new enough to town that she didn't know what SAMRCRO meant. And, frankly, Chloe was hoping it took her a while to figure it out. Public opinion, while generally positive toward SAMCRO, still made people leery of it. Something about dangerous bikers made normal people nervous. So she wasn't sure she wanted to let Lois in on her background if it meant she was going to do what everybody else did.

Putting that on the backburner for now, Chloe considered what Lois was suggesting. It was Friday and she was caught up in all of her classes… It wasn't like missing one day was going to hurt her grades any. Helpless to a smile, she said, "Fine, but we have to be back here at 3; I need to work on the newspaper and then Jax or Ope will want to drive me home. You know how protective they are."

Lois scoffed at the understatement. " _Protective?_ Please. Do you remember Jax giving me the third degree on the first day? Territorial much…?"

She rolled her eyes, hooking her backpack over her shoulder and closing her locker. "He's not territorial. We're  _friends_. Have been since we were in diapers." She started down the hall, Lois walking in-step with her. "He's always been like that."

"Well, no wonder you only hang out with them, he probably scared off all your potential friends."

Chloe laughed. "For the most part, I was good with that. In elementary school, the only person I liked hanging out with was Opie. Half the time, I was jealous of Jax."

"Well, I think Jackie-boy is jealous of me now." She wiggled her fingers at him in a mocking wave as they passed him and Opie at their lockers. "'Cause now I take up most of your time."

Jax pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at her.

Chloe batted Lois's hand out of the air. "Don't pick on him. He'll interrogate you again."

Chuckling to herself, she shrugged. "Whatever. If Opie's there, I'll deal."

Lip curling, she shook her head. "Your on-going interest in my brother is freaking me out."

"It's not my fault your brother's hot."

"Maybe not, but it  _is_ your fault I have to keep hearing about it."

Lois' head fell back as she laughed. She slung an arm around Chloe's shoulders and directed her to one of the doors leading outside. She wasn't about to apologize for her behavior, it just wasn't Lois' style, and despite the fact that Chloe would rather not hear about how hot her brother was, she did appreciate how blunt Lois was.

After leaving school, they went by Lois' house first so she could change into her bathing suit and grab some towels, sunscreen, and a few snacks. Taking a shortcut, they made their way over to Chloe's house next. Stopping beside the gate leading into her backyard, Chloe turned to her friend.

"Uh, you should probably wait out here," she told Lois, adding, "Quietly," under her breath.

"Sure." Shrugging, she leaned back against the fence and bit into an apple she'd rubbed to a shine on her jean shorts.

Chloe made her way around the side of the house and to her open window. She pushed herself up and climbed inside, careful not to make a sound. Avoiding her mother had become an art and it was one she mastered a long time ago. Going through her dresser, she found her favorite bikini and a brightly-colored sarong. Undressing, she quickly changed into it and dug out a pair of sandals from her closet. Grabbing a book off her bedside table, she stuffed it, her hair brush, and a few elastics into her backpack and slung it over her shoulder before climbing back out the window.

She met Lois back in the alley and nodded. "Okay, let's go."

The walk down over didn't take too long. She and Opie had come down to the lake for fishing so many times that she could find it with her eyes closed. Because it was a weekday, the lake was abandoned, leaving it free and open for them to enjoy in peace. They set up on the dock leading out onto the water, laying down their towels at the end, right where the sun was shining. The beach was a little too cool thanks to the trees all collected together, branches providing more shade than they wanted.

Laying on her back, an arm tucked behind her head, Lois grinned up at her. "Did I mention how nice it is to see you wearing something other than jeans and one of your brother's oversized shirts?"

Chloe snorted and took a seat next to her. "Not all of us are big into fashion, Lo."

"Maybe not, but that doesn't mean you can't show off what good genes gave you." She winked at her playfully. "All I'm saying is, Opie isn't the only good looking one in the family. Flaunt it!"

She could feel a blush rising on her cheeks and shook her head, dismissing the comment. Growing up with men who were all like family, she didn't exactly get a lot of compliments on her physical appearance. Especially since they scared off any potential future boyfriends. Usually, it was only Gemma who reminded her she was a girl, and a pretty one at that. Most of the time, she just felt like one of the boys.

The truth was, however, that Chloe had grown up into a beautiful young woman. She was still short, a constant irritation when faced with her too-tall brother and father, but she was slim with curvy hips and, what she thought was, a pretty decent chest. Her favorite asset, however, besides her long, blonde hair, was her smile. For all that she was leery of most people outside of the club, for those she did know, she always had a bright, friendly grin to greet them with.

"So, what is it you do on the weekends anyway?" Lois wondered, her eyes now hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.

"Mostly drive around… Saturday mornings, my dad and I have breakfast. It's a tradition. Then I hang around the shop, see if Gemma needs any help in the office, sometimes I help the guys out working on a car, play pool with Jax and Opie…" She didn't add that she often went shooting with Chibs or practiced throwing knives with Tig. She didn't tell Lois that sometimes, for fun, Lenny brought her locks to pick and timed her. Or that occasionally she and Bobby drove out to the middle of nowhere to blow things up. She couldn't explain away those things without having to admit that all of her dad's friends were criminals and she wasn't raised like most people.

"Sounds boring," Lois said bluntly. "You could have a lot more fun with me." She turned to grin at her. "I heard they have a karaoke bar. I bet we could sneak in, show 'em how it's done."

"No sneaking necessary," she assured her. "Gemma and I went there before. They won't mind that we're underage."

Lois stared at her a long moment. "So you just hang out with Jax's mom like it's no big deal?"

"Uh…" Her brow furrowed. "Yeah, I guess. I mean, I've known her all my life. She… She's like a mother to me. Or a really cool aunt."

Turning onto her side, Lois rested her head on her hand. "So, you and Jax, you're not a thing? Never have been, never will?"

"No…  _Why?_ " She paused. "I thought you liked  _Opie_."

"I do." Lois shrugged. "I just think it's interesting how much time you and Jax spend together… I mean, I get growing up with him, but at some point, you've gotta turn around and go, 'wow, you are  _not_  that weird kid who picked his nose anymore; you're a total fox.'"

Chloe laughed, her brows hiked incredulously. "Really?"

"I'm just saying…" Lois held a hand up in defense. "Jax might not be my flavor of boyfriend, but he's not bad to look at, and he's definitely looking at you."

She shook her head. "He's dating Tara Knowles and, trust me, he barely separates from her mouth long enough to notice anybody else."

"Oh so what, high school romances are quick to die out. Give it a few months and he'll forget all about her."

"I don't want him to. I don't  _want_ Jax! He—He's my brother's best friend and he's  _my_ friend and I—I don't even think of him that way."

"Mm-hmm." Turning over on to her stomach, Lois pulled her long dark hair off her back and braided it, leaving the end loose without a tie and simply resting it on the towel beneath her. "Look, all I'm saying is, think about the double date possibilities."

Chloe chuckled and laid down on her own towel. "You'd have to get Opie to ask you out first before you start setting up double dates."

"Who says he has to do the asking?" she scoffed. "I'm perfectly capable of asking him out."

"Yeah? Then why haven't you?"

"It's  _all_ about the build-up… Just you wait and see. I'll be the one saying, 'I told you so.'"

Snorting to herself, Chloe closed her eyes and rested her chin on her stacked hands, enjoying the warm sun on her skin.

"Hey, did you get the Spanish homework done?" Lois wondered

She cracked open an eye. "The homework due  _yesterday_?"

"Yep."

Amused, she sighed to herself. "I handed it in already."

"Yeah, but you remember what you wrote, right? So you can help me with mine?"

She liked Lois, she really did. She was possibly the most laid back person Chloe had ever met and it never failed to amuse her when that bit her in the ass. Not because she got in trouble, but because her way of dealing with it was so  _Lois_. She didn't care if the assignment was late or if the teacher disapproved, she just moved at her own pace. Lois was a free spirit and Chloe liked that about her. Of course, there were a couple downsides, like having to help her when her interest in actually passing school reared its head.

"Sure. We'll go over it later."

"Cool."

The rest of the morning was spent sunbathing before they hopped into the water for a short swim. The water was cool as they backstroked lazily, splashing each other from time to time. Chloe smiled up at the bright blue sun as she floated, water lapping around her face, her hair floating around her. The sun was high and bright, enough that she had to squint against it. She ducked her head under, letting the water run over her face when her cheeks felt like they were starting to burn. Turning over, she started back toward where Lois was pulling herself out of the water.

They dried off on the dock, sitting cross-legged on their towels, and ate their lunch. Never quiet long, Lois launched into a story about the last school she was in, and getting kicked out for punching one of the other kids in the face.

"He should've kept his grubby hands to himself," she said, rolling her eyes. "He deserved that broken nose."

Chloe chuckled. "No arguments here."

It was nearly two when they decided to pack everything up and head into town. They stopped at Chloe's house for her to exchange her bathing suit, not wanting to tip Jax or Opie off to her skipping. While the Mayans had officially laid down arms against SAMCRO a few months ago, it didn't mean any of them were any less worried about her getting herself caught in the crossfire. Chloe was more than over playing damsel to their knight acts, however. The Mayans had suffered too many casualties and were in no place to keep fighting against SAMCRO, so she was sure they weren't going to be an issue anymore. Of course, telling her boneheaded brother and Jax that was like talking to a wall.

Chloe climbed in through the window again, silent as could be. While she was dry now, except for her still dripping hair, she would be much happier taking a shower to wash the lake water off of her. It wasn't a good time, however, as she knew her mother was home. Stripping off her bathing suit and sarong, she tossed them in her laundry basket and dug out a loose tank top and a pair of jeans shorts. She was just buttoning her shorts when she heard a crash in the living room. Reacting instinctively, she rushed out of her room to see if her mother was okay.

Moira, however, was in a state. She was inebriated and her eyes were glazed, a sign Chloe recognized meant that Moira had mixed her medications again and she wasn't reacting well. She spooked when she saw Chloe and threw the closest thing next to her, which happened to be a lamp. It crashed against the wall and the chord followed, knocking over picture frames as it went. Moira was babbling, not making any sense, and tugging at her hair, which was already in tangled disarray. She was obviously paranoid and seemed to think Chloe was a threat. She went for the crystal ashtray on the coffee table next.

"Mom! It's me! It's  _Chloe!_ Calm down," she exclaimed, walking toward her, hopping over the broken lamp and an upturned chair, her hands out to ward off anything else that might be thrown. "Listen to me, you need to sit down, okay? Maybe take a nap…"

"No, no, no…" Moira turned in a circle before suddenly stopping and throwing the ashtray at the TV. The screen splintered on contact and a loud popping noise could be heard. There went the television…

Sighing, Chloe shook her head. She didn't like to be around her mother when she was in this state; she was scared she would hurt herself. Calling the police was a no-go though. At best, they'd keep her in the hospital until the drugs were out of her system, but they wouldn't be able to stop her from doing it all again. At worst, they'd arrest her, and Moira wouldn't survive in jail.

"I want Gabe. Where's Gabe?" she wailed.

Chloe winced. "Gabe…  _died_ , mom. You know that."

"No, no, no!" She shook her head and started pacing, tugging at her clothes. "You did this. It was you. You weren't his, he didn't want to stay… You were a  _mistake!_ I never should've done it. Never should've kept you." She turned to her, expression twisted with vicious anger. "You ruined my life! I wouldn't be like this if it wasn't for you! I would still have Gabe." Her shoulders slumped. "I want Gabe."

Chloe stared at the floor, her eyes burning, and took a deep breath. Squaring her shoulders, she lifted her chin and said, "Gabe's at work, mom. But he won't be home for a while. If you lay down, it'll go by faster."

Moira blinked at her a few times, her breathing slowing down. "Yes… Yes, Gabe'll come home after work." She started walking then, her gait wobbly, and made her way toward her bedroom, her hands up and against the walls for balance, her feet shuffling.

Chloe didn't look up until she heard her mother's bedroom door shut and then she wiped at her face, where tears had escaped.

"You okay?"

Her head swiveled quickly and she found Lois standing in the hallway, watching her uncertainly.

"Yeah. Yeah I'm fine." She swiped at her cheeks and forced a dismissive smile. "She's just on a new medication; it makes her loopy…"

Lois didn't smile back, she looked away for a second and then she nodded. It took her all of a second to cross the room and wrap her arms around Chloe in a hug. It was unexpected, so much so that Chloe just stood there a minute. But eventually, Chloe sunk into it. She closed her eyes and, despite wanting to hold it in, couldn't. She pressed her face down against her friend's shoulder and broke down crying, shaking as she did. Lois rubbed her back and didn't say a word; she just held her through it.

It was a few minutes before she was finally done. She lifted her head and rubbed away her tears, blowing out a shaky breath. "Okay. Awkward family dysfunction now shared." She backed up and nodded. "Thank you."

Lois shrugged. "Hey, no worries."

It was then, having let herself share that with her, that Chloe realized Lois was going to be her best friend, her only  _real_ friend outside of the club. Before, she'd been trying it out, letting it be a separate but confined area of her life, like with Jenny. Now she realized that wasn't going to work. Lois had to be all in. Chloe wasn't going to blurt out club business, but she would have to be honest with her. Just, maybe not right after she found out Chloe's mom was just this side of crazy.

Throwing an arm around Chloe's shoulder's, Lois said, "Come on, if we waste any more time, you're not going to make it back for your newspaper thing."

Wrapping her arm around Lois' waist, she nodded.

They walked out together, and made sure to laugh and joke the rest of the way to school. It was a relief, not only sharing that part of her home life but knowing that Lois wasn't judging her. She was a good friend and Chloe was glad she met her. She hoped they stayed friends for a long time.

* * *

_September 28, 1993_

"Don't you two have girlfriends you could be bugging?" Chloe wondered, eyeing the two boys who were now casting shadows over her and Lois. Having found a place under a tree to eat lunch, they were shaded enough.

"You know, I'm going to start taking it personally if you keep this up," Jax said, taking a seat beside her, legs spread out in front of him as he leaned back on his arms.

She rolled her eyes. "You don't think I spend enough time with you?"

"You keeping track of it?"

"Of course. I write every minute down every day.  _Dear diary_ …" she mocked, half-grinning.

He laughed under his breath.

"The sexual tension is getting thick over here, you two mind reining it in?" Lois snarked.

Opie laughed from his seat a few inches from her.

Chloe threw a handful of grass at her, but Lois was undeterred.

" _So_ , Jax," she turned to look at him, her head tipped. "Have I passed the tests yet or are you here to make sure I'm not corrupting your sweet, innocent Chloe?"

He snorted. "I don't know how sweet she is."

Chloe shoved his shoulder and he raised his eyebrows at her as if to say, "This is what I meant."

"But you haven't gotten her into too much trouble, so I guess you're all right…" he continued.

"Great," she said enthusiastically. "So that means you guys are up to hanging out now, right? Without the pretense of interrogation, I mean."

Opie eyes her, smiling, and turned to look at Jax. "Hear that? She wasn't intimidated by your bad cop routine."

"In his defense, Lois comes from a military family," Chloe piped up.

"We get grenades in our Christmas stockings," she shared brightly.

"Should I be concerned about this one…?" Jax wondered, turning to Chloe.

"Nah… I don't think she uses them on civilians…  _often_ …"

"You like explosives?" Opie turned to Lois curiously.

"Sure, who doesn't love a light show?"

"Yeah, nothing beats it…" He grinned. "We should hang out sometimes, have a, uh, light show."

Chloe looked between her brother and a smirking Lois, who quickly found themselves in a conversation about different explosives, blasting caps, and what materials they'd used before.

 _Huh_.

Maybe Lois wasn't going to be the one making the first move after all.

"You know that's gonna turn out bad, right?" Jax said, his breath warm against her ear.

She turned her eyes toward him. "Maybe… But I bet it starts out good."

He hummed, but didn't say anything. What could he say? All that mattered was that Lois liked her brother and Opie seemed to like her. For all Chloe knew, they were going to work out great. Although, with what Chloe had seen of relationships, she couldn't say she had the best opinion of them. Somebody inevitably screwed up or screwed around and then shit hit the fan. She'd just have to wait and see if anything came of Opie and Lois, good or bad.

* * *

_October 16, 1993_

Chloe sipped her usual orange juice through a straw as she read over her menu, brow furrowed thoughtfully.

Piney sat across from her, half-smiling to himself. "You know, used to be you couldn't read that… You just picked from the pictures."

She raised her eyes to his and grinned. "Are you getting sentimental on me?"

He rolled his eyes and leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Just been thinkin' lately… You haven't been around the club as much… Ope says you got yourself a friend."

"Lois," she clarified. "She's new to town."

He hummed, scratched his fingers through his beard. "She into writing like you?"

"No." She laughed under her breath. "No, Lois can't spell to save her life. She mostly just likes having fun."

He grunted.

"You'd like her," she assured him. "Opie does."

"Opie likes most women… Boy's not too particular."

She chuckled. "I don't know about that. He had a long-time preference for the cheerleading squad."

Piney laughed to himself, nodding. "All right, you got a point there."

"Seriously, though. Lois is… She's funny, smart, and she's loyal." She stared at him. "I'm picky about my friends, dad."

"So far, most of 'em have been brothers of the club… 'Cept that one girl."

"Yeah… We don't talk much anymore. I don't think my lifestyle fit with hers too well."

"And this Lois, she's okay with your  _lifestyle?_ "

She shifted in her seat. "She doesn't really know… Like I said, she's new to town. She doesn't know about SAMCRO yet."

"Yet?" he repeated, watching her carefully.

"It's not like I'm going to tell her the ins and outs, but… I think she'd get it. I… I think I can trust her."

He nodded, humming to himself, and picked up his coffee. "You do what you think is the right thing."

She let his words sink in and nodded.

Part of what she loved about Piney was that he didn't usually try to direct her life. When she was in danger, sure, he could get protective and give orders. But for the most part, he trusted her to make the right decisions and just tried to guide her to them. He was a good dad. Maybe not by normal standards, but by Chloe's.

Reaching over, she turned his menu to the other side. "Shouldn't you be looking at the heart healthy options?"

He sent her a withering glare and turned his menu back. "Don't you start."

Amused, she just smiled. The rest of their breakfast was spent discussing school, Opie, and how his latest trip out of town was. For all that life was changing and she was growing up and making new friends, Saturday mornings would always be her dads, and that was just the way she liked it.

* * *

_October 22, 1993_

"So we need to talk," Chloe announced. "Privately."

Lois turned to face her, lips tipped in a frown. "Are you breaking up with me?"

She rolled her eyes. " _Seriously_ … There's something I have to tell you."

Sobering, Lois cast her eyes around the busy school hall and then grabbed Chloe's arm and dragged her into the nearest girl's bathroom. "Oh my god, are you pregnant? Is it Jax's?"

Chloe's eyes widened. "What?  _No!_ And for the last time, Jax and I are just friends!"

She waved her hand dismissively. "So if it's not an unplanned pregnancy, then what is it?"

Crossing her arms over her chest, she cast her eyes around the empty bathroom. "Have you heard of SAMCRO? The local motorcycle gang?"

Brows furrowed, Lois nodded. "Yeah, sure, my dad's complained about them a few times. Menace this, disgrace that… I guess most of the guys are ex-ARMY, so he takes it kind of personally."

Chewing her lip, she nodded. "Well, he's right. The majority of them are out of the ARMY… See, back in 1960, my dad and a Jax's dad, John, met in Guam, they were in the 25th infantry, airborne division. They fought together for three years until JT finished his last tour. And then they met back up in '64 on base in San Diego and, a year later, they formed the Sons of Anarchy, the Redwood Originals… They didn't settle here in Charming until '77. It was… I dunno, it was supposed to be about freedom, I guess. They came back from 'Nam and things were different."

Chloe waved her hands dismissively; she didn't need to give Lois the whole history of the First 9, just the basics and how it all related to her.

"On the weekends, when I say I'm at the autoshop, I am, but the SAMCRO clubhouse is inside the gates… I—I grew up around them. They're my  _family_ … And I wanted to tell you, but people in this town—" She shook her head. "I mean yes, part of it is our fault, but they see SAMCRO and they appreciate how they keep the other gangs from coming in and stop the drug runners from destroying it, but they're still scared. There's this stigma that SAMCRO is made up of the most vicious people you can think of, so people get intimidated and they keep their distance.

"For as long as I can remember, my only friends have been Jax and Opie. Not…  _entirely_ because other people didn't want to be friends with me, because I would've picked them over anybody else any day of the week, but… Now  _we're_  friends and I was worried that you would hear about SAMCRO and you'd know that I was part of it, I'm linked to them, and I guess, maybe your dad would stop you from hanging out with me or maybe you wouldn't even want to. So, I just… kept quiet and I hoped you wouldn't figure it out. But now… you're one of my  _best_  friends and I don't want that to suddenly come up later and for you to walk away."

Lois stared at her a long moment, her brows hiked high on her forehead. "So… when we're not hanging out, you're at a motorcycle club…?"

Chloe nodded.

"This explains so much…" Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully and then she nodded. "Okay, let's go to Pat's diner. I want stories. And let's be honest, at some point I'm going to ask a question that you're going to be offended by. It's human nature." Slinging an arm around Chloe's shoulder, she directed her toward the door. "Like, on a scale of one count of manslaughter to 'He was a nice, average guy, I had no idea he was keeping bodies in the basement,' just how much murder is involved?"

"Lois!" she exclaimed, both amused and somewhat horrified.

Lois merely grinned at her. "What? I thought I'd get the worst ones out of the way first."

Rolling her eyes, Chloe shook her head and groaned. But honestly, it was just nice to know that Lois was acting the same way she had before. No awkward tension or fear or anything. And that was how she knew she'd made the right decision, not only in telling Lois but in befriending her in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I suck so much at updating. I've mostly been on hiatus lately and school's been kind of demanding, so I just haven't had the energy to edit this. I'm excited about where we're at, though, because writing her teen years is so much more fun. I'm very happy to have Lois play a larger part now, because she's one of my favorite characters and her interactions with Chloe are always so much fun to write. I hope you feel the same!
> 
> Thank you all for reading! Please leave a review; they're my lifeblood!
> 
> \- **Lee | Fina**


	6. Chapter 6

[ ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary)

 

 **Part Six**.

_November 10, 1993_

Chloe sat somberly in a hospital chair, her knees pulled up to her chest. Opie was slumped next to her; he'd fallen asleep hours ago. Jax was pacing, his shoulders hunched and his hands tucked in the pockets of his jeans. Bobby told them to go home, that they shouldn't be at the hospital, but Jax was too worried to sit around the club house waiting on word.

JT was hit by a semi-truck on the 580. He'd been brought in and taken to surgery hours ago. Chloe could tell by the look on the men's faces that it wasn't good. Gemma was all nerves; she'd gone to the bathroom an hour ago and Chloe suspected she was crying. Unlike last time, when she'd comforted her over her fears for Tommy, Chloe didn't join her. She just watched Jax walk from one end of the line of chairs to the other.

Jackson was one of the most laid back people Chloe had ever met in her life, which was saying something considering most of the club was made up of people who reacted to life however they saw fit. Jax could have a temper on him, and a short fuse, but for the most part, he was just easy-going.

He wasn't like that now.

Much like he'd been when Tommy died, he was drawn and angry and his inability to fix things made him frustrated. He wasn't ready to be comforted because he wasn't sure what was going to happen. So she stayed quiet and she watched him and she prayed that John made it through. Because the club needed him and Jax needed him and she was really sick of burying people.

She closed her eyes when they burned and pressed her face against her knees.

He didn't deserve to die.

* * *

_November 13, 1993_

It took three days for John to succumb, his injuries too severe.

She was sitting next to Opie when the news was given to them. Gemma was crying against Clay's chest, but it was Jax that had Chloe's attention. He'd gone stock still when they said it, when they told him his father hadn't made it. But now he was pacing again, once, twice, and on the third one, he turned. He started punching the wall, over and over again, his fist crumbling the plaster with each blow.

Nobody intervened; Chloe thought that best until she saw the blood collecting on the wall, seeping from his split open knuckles. She stood from her chair and moved to him, shaking off Opie's hand when he tried to stop her. She stepped up behind Jax and slowly, carefully, wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing herself to his back and her face to his shoulder.

She could feel him shaking, vibrating with anger and sadness and a mixture of different emotions. He was breathing heavily and his hands were still swinging. But she squeezed him and she held on and finally, he stopped. He braced his hands on the wall and hung his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. She could hear it as he broke, as a sob tore form his throat. She reached her hand up his chest and curled it around his shoulder, her other arm gathered around his ribs. He covered her hands with his own and squeezed. They sunk down to the floor, with her holding him tightly, and he leaned into her, crying unashamedly. It was a few minutes until Opie joined them, wrapping his arms around them both, his head bowed down against Jax's.

Much like when they were children, they understood that this was something they would go through together. They would hold Jax up, support him through it, and mourn the loss of JT as a group, a family, as it should be.

* * *

_November 14, 1993_

John's funeral was held the morning after he died.

Neither Chloe nor Opie left Jax's side. She kept a hand tucked into his from the moment she met him that morning at the club, dressed head to toe in black, a tie loose around his neck. His face was drawn, bags under his red-rimmed eyes; he looked exhausted. He'd gone back to the club with most of the others, saying he couldn't be at home right then. She didn't think he'd slept at all and she couldn't blame him. She'd cried herself to sleep when she got home, muffling the noise in a pillow.

They rode in the car with him to the cemetery, a long line of motorcycles following behind. It was a little chilly out, but had thankfully stopped raining as they made their way to the funeral site, lined with chairs on one side and plenty of open space for the Sons to stand and show their respect.

Jax squeezed her hand tighter the closer they got to the casket and she rubbed her thumb back and forth soothingly. He was shaking when they sat down, leaning forward, his head hung, his free hand covering his eyes, squeezing the bridge of his nose. People were talking quietly, some taking their seats, others collecting together in groups. Sons who had come in from other districts were shaking hands, hugging, offering condolences.

It was just as the service was about to start that Tara showed up. She was nervous; she didn't know most of the people there, but she lifted her chin and made her way through, searching for Jax. Chloe spotted her first and gave Jax's hand a shake. He raised his head, turning to look at her. She nodded her chin toward his girlfriend and he followed her gaze, his brow furrowed.

She turned when he called her name and quickly made her way over. "Hey…" she murmured gently, crouching down in front of him. "Jax, I-I'm so sorry…" She swallowed tightly and shook her head. "I didn't know until last night. I came by your house and your mom told me…" She rubbed a hand over his cheek. "I wanted to be here for you."

Chloe shifted forward in her seat, her fingers loosening on Jax's. She was pretty sure there was a seat open on the other side of Opie that she could take and Tara could have her chair. But Jax's hand tightened around hers, silently telling her not to let go. So she stopped and waited, looking from him to Tara. The last thing she wanted to do was be stuck in some awkward  _thing_ between them. This wasn't the time or the place and, she'd heard Tara had a jealousy streak. Or so the last three girls who hit on Jax said after they got their asses kicked. Tara, for all she looked like one of the nice girls, apparently had a wild streak, which was probably why Jax had it so bad for her. Chloe didn't particularly feel like testing that out at the moment.

He reached for Tara and squeezed her hip. "Thanks. We'll talk after the service, okay?"

She stared at him a long moment, recognizing his words as a dismissal. She glanced at Chloe once and then nodded. Standing, she walked away, moving to find a seat elsewhere.

Chloe watched her go out of the corner of her eyes and then turned to Jax, who leaned back in his chair, a frown tugging down his mouth.

"I know you're hurting, but now's not the time to start pushing away people who care about you," she told him, half-smiling sincerely.

He turned to look at her. "She'll be fine."

"I'm sure she will. I just want you to be sure you're going to have someone to lean on…" She stared at him searchingly. "I know she didn't know JT, but she cares about you…"

His eyes fell and he licked his lips. "I'm already leaning on someone. I don't need anybody else."

"Jax—"

He sighed, lifting her hand up, and pressed his forehead to the back. "Leave it, Chloe." He kissed her hand and held it in both of his. "Just leave it."

She didn't want to and, under different circumstances, she usually wouldn't. But they were at his father's funeral and he was already so broken. So she let it go, deciding that if he needed advice later, then she would give it to him then. For now, she held onto him and let him hold onto her, and she said farewell to John Teller, all the while mentally reciting a Jack Kerouac poem that he'd taught her a few week ago.

 _Tears is the break of my brow,_ __  
The moony tempestuous  
Sitting down in dark rail yards  
When to see my mother's face  
Recalling from the waking vision  
I wept to understand  
The trap mortality  
And personal blood of earth  
Which saw me in—Father father  
Why hast thou forsaken me?  
Mortality & unpleasure  
Roam this city—  
Unhappiness my middle name  
I want to be saved,-  
Sunk—can't be  
Won't be  
Never was made—  
So retch!

When she joined Jax as he rested a flower on his father's casket, she instead placed the rolled up poem there, tied with twine.

Most of the people headed back to the club house to share a drink in JT's honor. Chloe and Opie joined Jax in the car returning to Teller-Morrow, her brother trying to distract him, talking non-stop about bikes and parts. She stared out the tinted window silently, watching all the people move around. War veterans, old friends, family, and Sons filled the area. JT was loved.

A tear slid down her cheek that she swiped away quickly, not fast enough that the two boys she sat next to hadn't noticed, however. She felt Jax's hand squeeze hers and hated that he was trying to comfort her when it was his father that had died.

"We should go for a ride tonight," she murmured. "A long one."

They nodded agreeably. If there was any way to honor John, it was to do what he loved best. Ride.

* * *

_November 15, 1993_

Chloe smiled as Clay was made president of the club, but inside her heart she had to admit that she would always think of JT. It was his club, his dream that had created it. She loved Clay like family and she didn't blame him. He worked hard to earn his place as vice president and it was only right that he took over in John's stead. But it was still too fresh in her mind.

It didn't help either that one of his first ideas was to start collecting vigs for protection from outside gangs, drug runners, and anybody who might come looking to stir up trouble. While the idea seemed generally good to begin with, it wasn't optional and not only did it put the people paying for it on edge, but it put the Sons protecting them at risk. Not to mention, while it would mean more business for the club, it also meant that they were responsible for everyone in Charming and that was a heavy load to carry. On top of that, he'd decided they would start loaning out money to small businesses in the community, indebting them to the club. They were becoming less like the club she considered them to be and more like the violent loan shark types that they were made out to be.

She left the club house as the celebratory drinking began and made her way over to the office beside the shop. Nobody was in it. As far as she knew, Gemma hadn't been back to Teller-Morrow since JT's accident. Walking inside, she moved over to take a seat at the desk and twisted the chair side to side, her head leaned back to stare at the ceiling. She hadn't turned the light on, so she mostly sat in darkness, except for the light filtering through the half-closed blinds, leaving shadows and lines over the room.

She couldn't count how many times she'd come here, sat on the couch, and vented to Gemma or JT. How many times she found him in here writing a book he wouldn't tell her the title of or working out the numbers on what they'd made that month doing their legal mechanic work. He'd been a mentor, helping her figure out the complexities of life, making her think. She would miss that. She would miss  _him_.

Chloe stayed in the office the whole night, eventually falling asleep in the chair. She dreamt of JT playing a game of Checkers, the board getting progressively more bereft of red until Death sat victorious on the other side.

* * *

_December 11, 1993_

"I hate shopping," Opie sighed, frowning as he walked next to her through the small outlet mall Charming boasted.

"I heard you the last three times you said it," Chloe returned, rolling her eyes. "What do you want? A hug?"

His lips cracked in a smile and he shook his head at her. "Are we almost done or what?"

"Almost." She nodded. "We just need to find something for Lois from you, and I need to pick up a box of cigars I put on hold. I'm going to put one in all the guys' stockings."

"Yeah?" He raised an eyebrow. "Mine and Jax's too?"

She snorted. "Like you need to smoke any more than you already do."

"Where's your Christmas spirit?"

She laughed, shaking her head. "Uh-huh… How about we focus on you getting your girlfriend a Christmas gift…" she suggested.

Sighing, he let his head fall back and reached up to rub his eyes. "What the hell do you get a girl like Lois?"

She shrugged. "You tell me. You're the one dating her."

He frowned down at her. "She likes sports… She's competitive…" His eyebrows raised hopefully. "She really likes Whitesnake!"

"There's a record store in Fresno. Dad took me with him to do some business a few months ago with the Sons chapter down there. He wouldn't let me meet the boys so I spent half the day checking out the store across the street… It's about a two hour drive, if you're up to it."

He nodded thoughtfully. "You think they'll have it?"

"We can call ahead, ask what their selection's like."

"Great. So cigars and we're outta here." He rubbed his hands together, looking happy to be nearly finished.

"We've only been at this a couple hours," she reminded, bumping his arm with her elbow.

"I know, I'm just… not good at this."

Her brow furrowed. "At what? Buying gifts for people?"

"Not just people, for  _Lois_ …" He shook his head. "All my other girlfriends, they were different."

"You mean because they didn't last longer than a week or two and you dumped them when you got bored?"

He at least looked ashamed of his actions and his cheeks flushed a little. "It starts out good, but after a while… I dunno. It's like, we have nothing in common." He reached up and dragged a hand through his hair, tugging on it irritably.

"So it's good then… You've found something different with Lois."

He nodded, his lips turned down. "Yeah, but I don't know what to do about it."

She grinned slowly. "Aww, she's your first  _love_ ," she teased.

Rolling his eyes, he turned his eyes away. "She's a whole other breed."

"That's good." Chloe tucked her hands in her jeans, a few bags hanging off her wrists. "Ope, you deserve an awesome girl and, maybe I'm biased, but Lois is the  _pinnacle_ of awesome… Maybe it's okay to be confused or a little nervous; it means it matters."

He cocked his head and looked down at her thoughtfully. "When'd you get so smart about relationships, huh?" He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a side-hug. "You got a secret boyfriend I don't know about?"

She snorted. "Yeah, a few of them."

"I'm impressed."

"I lost count, but it's either upwards of five or negative four."

He laughed under his breath, ducking his head in amusement. "You don't need to date anybody anyway. You've got enough men in your life."

"No arguments here."

Admittedly, Chloe occasionally did wish she could try dating, but with her reputation and, more importantly, the warning of Jax and Opie intervening, that probably wasn't in the cards for her for a while. And Opie was right; she really did have more than enough men in her life as it was. She was content for now. When it was time to date, she would. She'd just have to find the right guy. Someone who wasn't easily intimidated.

* * *

_January 15, 1994_

For Opie's birthday, there was a consensus to blow shit up.

Chloe was at Lois', waiting for her to finish getting ready while she absently looked through one of her many magazines, flipping through the pages without really taking anything in.

"Lo, not that my brother won't appreciate the effort, but you know we're just setting things on fire and playing with explosives, right? You don't really need make-up for that."

"Maybe not, but I was thinking of giving Opie something a little more…  _personal_ afterwards," she said, applying lip gloss in her mirror.

Chloe paused, lifting her head, and eyed her friend as she sat wearing her best jeans and a top that emphasized her already well-endowed chest. "Oh gross," she muttered. "You're not seriously going to have sex with my brother."

Rolling her eyes, she looked back at her with a grin. "You want me to call it 'making love'?" she teased.

"I want you to call it 'not happening,' preferably."

Snorting, she shrugged. "What can I say? He charmed me from the beginning."

"His first words to you were  _literally_  that you don't look like a freshman. After that was just a series of humming and nodding at you in hello," Chloe reminded.

"Yes, and then he warmed up to me. Somewhere around discussing explosives which, let me remind you, is a huge turn on for me."

"I might throw up," Chloe sighed.

"Shut up." Standing from her chair, Lois waved to herself. "How do I look?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure I can stand to look at the girl planning to sleep with my brother at some point tonight."

"You didn't get this weird when I told you we were making out…"

"As far as I knew, and  _cared_ to know, that was all over-the-clothes business. I prefer to pretend you two aren't dating."

"We've been together since October…" Lois reminded, cocking her head. "That's a lot of denial to work through…"

Chloe waved a dismissive hand through the air. "I'm hoping to just coast by on it, happily oblivious."

Lois laughed. "Yeah, well, that's not going to happen." She flopped down on the bed next to Chloe. "I'm officially losing my virginity to your brother, and I plan to tell you all the details, so buck up!"

Chloe scowled at her. "I'm investing in ear plugs to drown out anything you have to say."

"Don't be a prude. Sex is totally normal." She slapped Chloe's thigh and rolled off the bed. "Now come on, they're gonna be here any minute and I still have to raid my dad's garage for blasting caps."

Sighing, she climbed off the bed and followed Lois out of her room. She'd only met Sam Lane once or twice, but he was an intimidating guy. It kind of surprised her just how casual Lois was considering her father was such a stiff man. Her sister Lucy, on the other hand, was even more free spirited than Lois. Lucy was an extremely smart wild child with a manipulative streak in her. Personally, Chloe wasn't her biggest fan, but she didn't have to see her often, so it worked out well.

After gathering the caps, they went outside to wait for the boys to show up. It wasn't long before the familiar roar of motorcycle engines caught their attention and they peered down the street to see them coming. Chloe was glad they were doing this. Not just for Ope, but because Jax had been distant lately. He'd been pulling away from everyone emotionally, closing himself off as he grieved the loss of his father. She understood why he did it, she just wished he didn't have to.

As Opie pulled up to the curb, he climbed off his bike to greet Lois, pulling her in for a kiss as she said happy birthday.

Turning away from the sight, knowing what was coming later that night, Chloe immediately made her way over to Jax, who was still straddling his bike, leaning back on it a little as he waited.

"Hey," she said, tipping her head to catch his eyes.

He drew the cigarette down from behind his ear and tucked it between his lips. "Hey," he returned as he dug out a lighter.

"You know I fully expect you to distract me while those two spend most of tonight groping each other, right?"

He cracked a smile and laughed under his breath. "You got it."

He held his helmet out for her to take and she plopped it on her head before climbing onto the back of his bike.

Shifting forward in his seat for her to get comfortable behind him, he mentioned, "Should just get you your own at this point."

Chloe did up the strap under her chin. "I don't know. Your head's probably hard enough to handle any accident we get in."

He raised an eyebrow back at her, grinning. "Good to know."

She shrugged, smiling.

His gaze moved past her toward their friends and he called, "Hey, love birds, let's get this show on the road…"

Lois fingered Jax over Opie's shoulder, but only kissed him for a few more seconds before pulling away and tugging him toward his bike.

"Think she's warming up to me," Jax muttered.

"Oh yeah, she's practically your biggest fan," Chloe returned sarcastically.

Chuckling, he wrapped his hands around the handles and told her to hold on.

Winding her arms around his waist, she turned her head as Opie and Lois moved past them, taking the lead.

The drive out to the deserted lot she and Bobby usually visited to blow things up didn't take long, but Chloe's favorite part was the ride. She liked how it felt when the bike leaned as they took a turn, how her and Jax's body's shifted with it. She loved the wind, the power shaking underneath her, and the roar of the engine as they sped up. She could spend her whole life right there and never regret it. Eventually, however, the ride came to an end, and they were setting up.

The fact that they had so much access to explosives should have worried her, but given their upbringing, it really didn't. So she sat back and enjoyed it, watching fire shoot to the sky and dirt fly in every direction. It wasn't until the sun set and they agreed that trying to play with explosives in the dark, even if they had flashlights, wouldn't be the best idea. But as Chloe and Jax were putting things away, she could see Lois leaning up on her tiptoes, saying something to Opie, whose eyebrows shot up in realization.

"I'm guessing those two are gonna have their own after-party," Jax said, an eyebrow raised.

She turned to look at him. "You can ask to join, but I don't think either of them will agree."

He ducked his head as he laughed, a grin filling his face, chasing away some of the sadness that had been hanging around him.

She walked toward where he was leaning against his bike. "What've you got planned after this?" she wondered.

He looked up at her from the top of his eyes. "You're not ready to head home yet?"

She wasn't sure she ever was.

Shrugging, she told him, "Why waste a perfectly good Saturday night?"

He nodded, half-smiling. "All right. Let's do something." He stood, handing her the helmet, and shouted to the others, "Me and Chloe are gonna head out. We'll see you tomorrow. Happy birthday, brother."

Opie looked over, nodding to them, while Lois winked at Chloe, who mimicked vomiting at her.

Jax climbed onto his bike and waited for Chloe to settle in behind him, her arms around his middle, before he started his bike.

"What d'you wanna do?" he wondered.

She shrugged. "Just ride for now… We'll figure it out after."

He nodded and they pulled away from the lot, leaving Opie and Lois to their business.

They spent the next hour like that, driving with no particular destination in mind, following roads wherever they led, riding right down the center of empty streets, pushing the limits of the speedometer. When they finally stopped, they were down at the lake. Chloe hopped off, freeing her head from the helmet, and started down toward the same dock she and Lois had sunbathed on a few months earlier.

She took a seat right at the end, shucking her shoes and socks and letting her feet dip into the cool water. He joined her, rolling up the legs of his jeans and doing the same. It was quiet for a while, just the sound of crickets filling the air. Chloe laid back, her hands stacked on her stomach, and stared at the sky.

"My dad and I used to come fishing down here sometimes," he told her.

She turned her head to look at him, but found only his back as he peered out over the still water. "Yeah?"

He nodded slowly. "Used to spend hours down here, little row boat, had to be quiet… It was boring as hell when I was a kid."

She chuckled softly.

"He used to tell me it was about patience… That learning how to do something right always took patience." He licked his lips. "He taught me a lot, you know? Even when I didn't think he was. All these little things, these lessons, and I got 'em in my head, like a voice of reason or something."

"That's good, isn't it?"

"Sure…" His jaw flexed. "I just wish he was sayin' it in person."

Chloe sat up, her hands wrapping around the edge of the dock on either side of her legs. She wasn't sure what to say, because truthfully, she felt the same way. JT always had words of wisdom to share with her and, while she'd learned a lot and would cherish it forever, she still wished he was around to tell her more.

Resting her head on Jax's shoulder, she murmured, "I wish he was too. I wish a lot of them were still here, but him and Tommy especially…" She swallowed tightly. "I'm sorry you lost them, Jackson."

He turned to look at her, his eyes swimming, and he nodded. "Yeah…" He slipped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed her in a hug. "Yeah."

She wished she had more to say, but it seemed there was only silence after that. He didn't seem to mind, however, taking comfort in her just being there. She hoped it was enough.

* * *

_February 7, 1994_

Chloe was exhausted. After a long day of school and fighting with her editor over a column she was writing, she wanted nothing more than to pass out on the nearest soft surface. Unfortunately, she'd promised to meet Lois for a slice of pizza since they hadn't been seeing each as much with her and Opie attached at the hip. Lois, being Lois, was late.

Chloe slumped down in a chair and rested her forehead on her arms where they crossed on the tabletop. She was fully ready to just take a nap and hope that Lois woke her when she got there when she heard the approaching sound of sneakers and the noise of someone clearing their throat. Assuming it was the guy there to take her order, she said, "I'll have a pitcher of Coke. Unless you have coffee; in that case, just tip by head back and pour it down my throat…"

A low chuckled answered her. "I'm pretty sure that's against restaurant policy."

She shrugged. "Live a little."

Gathering her strength, she lifted her head and turned to see who it was she was encouraging to battle her exhaustion for her. He was half-smiling at her, a stained white apron around his waist and a pad and pen in his hands. He was wearing one of those terrible little paper hats that read Joey's Pizza on the side, but he didn't seem the least bit embarrassed. She vaguely recognized him, but couldn't remember a name. She assumed he was a year or two older than her.

"Hale, you got the order or what? We don't have all day!" a gruff voice shouted, a bell ringing for attention shortly after.

The boy in front of her rolled his eyes. "It's coming!" he called back.

Hale. Her brows hiked a little in recognition. Jacob Hale was a wealthy judge that presided over the county; he was a no-nonsense ball buster that didn't have any love for SAMCRO whatsoever, if his habit of putting them behind bars with little leniency said anything. He had two sons and since Jacob Hale Jr. had already left for college, that meant she was looking at David Hale.

"Not to rush you, but if I don't get an order back there soon, he's going to start banging things around. He's not the most patient guy around…"

She nodded. "Yeah, no it's fine. Uh, I'm waiting on a friend, but we always get the same thing anyway. Large, double cheese, double pepperoni, and I wasn't kidding about the pitcher of Coke. She could drink her weight in soda."

His mouth curled up on one side and he nodded as he scribbled it down. "Okay. Coming right up." Tucking his pen behind his ear, he walked off toward the kitchen and Chloe found her eyes following after him.

He was handsome in that All-American boy kind of way; tanned with short-cropped brown hair, wide shoulders and a lean waist. She tried to remember the sports games she'd covered for the paper and if he happened to play in any of them, but sports were never something she followed all that closely. Still, she thought she might've watched more games if she had a face like that looking back at her.

Shaking her head, she turned back around and rested her elbows on the table, her chin in her hand as she watched people walk down the street, passing her by. Ten minutes passed with no Lois and no familiar, rumbling engine; she was starting to think she'd been stood up.

"Did you need to call anybody?"

She turned her head to see Hale looking at her curiously, his brows raised. "We have a phone you could use… See if your friend got caught up."

She laughed under her breath. "Yeah, she's not the type to be hanging out at home. If she got in trouble, she'd just climb out the window." She shrugged. "Thanks, though."

He nodded and started cleaning off the other tables, wiping them down and putting menus and napkins back in order. She found herself watching him move, the way his back flexed as he stretched or his arms tightened, stretching the sleeves on his white t-shirt. He didn't dress like the guys she hung around with. Jax and Opie were more casual jeans and loose shirts. David tucked his shirts into his beige khakis. It should have been a turn-off, really, but for some reason she liked that he didn't follow the current grunge trend.

"So, does your friend do this often?" he suddenly wondered, drawing her eyes up to his face.

"Abandon me to eat large pizzas on my own?" She shrugged. "She's forgetful… and perpetually late for everything."

"Have you tried telling her to meet you at an earlier time so she'd get there closer to the right one?"

"Yes and, I don't know how, but she was even later than usual that time." She threw her hands up. "Honestly, the better idea is to go and get her, but she's probably with my brother and I don't really want to know what they're doing."

"Ahh…" He nodded, playing it cool though she noticed a faint flush on his neck. "So, you have a brother?"

She half-smiled. "I do. He's a year older." She motioned her finger toward him. "You do too, right?"

"Yeah, uh, Jake's a few years older. He left for college last year."

She nodded. "That's cool… Anywhere exciting?"

"Los Angeles, he's actually going to UCLA."

"Wow!" Her brows hiked, impressed. "Not bad."

"Yeah, he's doing well. He wants to get into business."

"Not going the lawyer route, like your dad?"

He shook his head. "No, Jake never wanted to ride the bench."

Chloe eyed him thoughtfully. "What about you? What happens after your big career in pizza? Are you going to be the next DA or what?"

He half-grinned at her. "I don't think I'm lawyer or judge material… But, I'd like to work in law enforcement." He shrugged. "Who knows, maybe one day I'll be Charming's Chief of Police."

She was struck very suddenly with the fact that she was talking with a boy whose future would be the complete opposite of everyone she knew. If he did what he said he wanted to do, he would one day be arresting the men she called family. Hell, he might even end up arresting her brother. Loyalty said that it was a bad idea to flirt with the future enemy of her club, but teenage hormones said that the future wasn't now, and she would deal with it when it happened.

"I imagine you'd look better in a badge than that apron."

He looked down at himself and grinned crookedly. "Here's hoping."

She smiled up at him and, for a moment, couldn't help but get caught up in how blue his eyes were.

The bell above the door rung then, announcing a new customer, and their attention was drawn to where Lois was hurrying inside, letting out a huff. She threw her hands up. "I know, I'm late, I'm sorry. Something came up and I forgot I was meeting you here and it was just a whole  _thing_ , y'know?" She plopped down in the chair across from her. "Did you order?"

A smaller, tinnier ring sounded then, letting them know their pizza was ready. David turned and walked back toward the kitchen to get it for them and Chloe let her eyes follow him over Lois' shoulder. Thankfully, her friend didn't seem to notice or care as she went on about something that happened after school and how her sister Lucy was driving her crazy. Chloe tore her eyes off him when he returned, trying not to look as obvious as she felt. This was the first guy she'd ever actually, well,  _liked_. Sure, she'd noticed how hot a few of her classmates were, but there was something about David that was different. Then again, he didn't know who she was, and given his desire to uphold the law, she imagined he'd go running for the hills long before he'd ever give her a chance.

Stamping out the interest before it could fully develop, she turned her attention to Lois and decided to forget whatever moment she might have had with the handsome, youngest Hale.

Of course, when she took her receipt after paying for her and Lois' late lunch and found the message he scrawled on the back, she bit her lip to hide her smile and reconsidered.

' _I liked talking to you. I hope we can do it again sometimes. –David'_

Yeah, she kind of hoped so, too.

Apparently she hadn't stamped out her interest completely.

* * *

_March 28, 1994_

"Entertain me…" Lois whined, leaning back against the bank of lockers next to Chloe's. "Your dumb brother is working on a bike or whatever with Jax… Something about a Harley Panhead, blah blah blah…" She waved a dismissive hand.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "They're reconstructing JT's bike, it was a 1949 Harley Panhead FL Hydra Glide, just FYI."

"Well, for  _your_ information, you might as well have been speaking a foreign language, because I didn't catch  _any_ of that."

She snorted. "It doesn't matter. All you need to know is that it was Jax's dad's, and it matters to him, which is why Opie is there."

"Fine," she sighed. "That still doesn't give me something to do all afternoon…"

"And I'd like to help you out with that, but I'm filling in for Gemma at the auto shop. They've got some filing for me to do and it's boring, but it pays well."

Her brows hiked. "Two hands are better than one," she suggested, grinning hopefully.

She chewed her lip uncertainly. "Uh, I don't know, Lo…"

"Oh, come on! I swear, I'll be on my best behavior."

Chloe raised a skeptical eyebrow, but shrugged. "Fine, but you stay in the office with me. No wandering!"

Lois beamed at her, looking proud that she'd won. "You got it, boss."

She wasn't sure what she was getting herself into, but she imagined it wasn't anything good.

Chloe and Lois walked straight from school to Teller-Morrow auto. Neither of the girls felt like stopping at their respective homes, so they brought along their school bags, one of whom's was much lighter than the other's since she rarely did her homework.

As they stepped through the open gates of the auto shop, Chloe breathed a sigh of relief. The welcome noise of tools and cars being worked on greeted her and the familiarity was soothing. They crossed the large cement landscape toward the open-door leading into the office; a curious Lois looked around at everyone and everything.

Chloe stepped inside to find Clay sitting at the desk, reading over a few papers. She rapped her knuckles on the door to get his attention and smiled. "Hey. Don't tell me you're spending your afternoon in here filing. I don't doubt your skills, but last I checked, Gemma had a pretty specific routine set up."

He chuckled low under his breath. "You got that right. Be a lot easier if she just alphabetized this shit, but she's a special breed of woman, that one."

"No arguments here." She waved a thumb behind her. "Hey, I hope it's not a problem, but I brought my friend Lois along. She's not much of a worker, so she'll probably take up space on the couch, if that's okay."

"Hey, this couch potato has ears," Lois snarked behind her.

Clay half-grinned. "Is that Opie's girl?"

"I prefer he be called Lois' guy, but same difference," Lois answered.

Chloe stepped out of the way for Lois to step forward and Clay stood from the desk, reaching out a hand for her to shake.

He nodded and turned back to Chloe. "Yeah, she can stay. We've got a stack of bills that already came in today, still need to be logged and filed."

"Okay, great."

"I'll leave you two ladies to your work." He made his way to the door and Chloe ducked over to take her seat at the desk. Pausing just short of entering the garage, he said, "Hey, we're breakin' out the barbecue tonight. Make sure you stick around."

"We'll be here," Chloe assured him.

Lois saluted agreeably before taking a seat on the couch.

Clay closed the door behind him, mid-way through shouting at Bobby about the Sedan he was working on.

"So, he's the one who took over for Jax's dad, right? As president?" Lois wondered.

Going through a stack of bills, Chloe absently nodded. "Yeah, Clay was one of the original nine. He earned his stripes and, since he was VP when JT died, it just made sense. He's a good guy."

"Yeah, but have you ever wondered if it was like a mob thing… You know, take out the boss so you can replace him kind of thing…"

She frowned. "No, are you kidding?" Rolling her eyes, she turned to Lois and shook her head. "This isn't the mob and it's not like something you'd see on TV, Lo… They're brothers,  _family_ ; loyalty comes first."

"Loyalty  _should_ come first…" She shrugged, drawing her legs up onto the couch and resting her head back, readying herself for a nap. "But sometimes power rears its ugly head and you don't care if it's your brother or your enemy… All you know is they're standing between you and the throne."

Chloe simply sighed to herself. She'd grown up in this life, so she could vouch for anyone of the Sons, but it wouldn't change anyone's opinion. She wasn't even sure if Lois really thought that; sometimes she just liked playing devil's advocate and spinning tails. Honestly, she sometimes thought Lois would make a good writer, even a journalist, but she was too quick to jump to conclusions and not eager enough to chase down the full truth.

Burying the whole thing, Chloe turned back to her paperwork and just let her best friend nap away the afternoon while she worked. She put the bills away and then went through the filing and, by the time she was finished, it was just about six. The shop had closed up a half hour ago and she'd heard the tell-tale noise of motorcycles returning, lining up as they usually did. Familiar voices could be heard as they set up the barbecues and started getting ready.

Finally, closing the drawer on the filing cabinet loud enough to wake her friend, she grinned at the groggy girl slowly sitting up on the couch.

"Rise and shine, princess," she greeted.

Yawning, Lois stretched her arms above her head and popped her back, rolling her head to get a kink out of her neck. "Wha' time's it?"

"Just about dinner time, c'mon." She walked toward the door and nodded her head for Lois to follow. "I'm going to introduce you to the guys."

Standing, Lois finger-brushed her hair and joined her as she walked outside.

Across the lot, the barbecues were starting to smoke. A table was set up, piled with plates of raw hamburger patties, steaks, and ribs. A few bottles of barbecue sauce sat next to them, in varying stages of full or empty.

A large group of men all milled around, wearing denim and leather, their cuts proudly bearing the allegiance. She smiled as she set eyes on them and walked right into a conversation between Chibs, Bobby, and Happy. Her favorite Scotsman looked down at her with a grin, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Heard you were fillin' in for Gemma." He reached up and pushed his sunglasses into his dark hair. "Heard you brought someone with ya, too."

Chloe turned to look over her shoulder. "Yeah…" She waved her friend forward. "Lois, meet Chibs, Bobby, and Happy." She motioned to each of them and then raised a curious brow at the last one. "When'd you ride in from Tacoma?"

He shrugged. "Got in yesterday. Had to talk shop with Clay and figured I'd head out tomorrow," he explained, his voice a deep rasp.

She nodded. "Well, it's good to see you. And your timing's good too; we've been pushing Clay to have a barbecue for weeks now."

"He likes to drag his feet for us. Make us work for it," Chibs said, reaching behind him to clap Clay on the shoulder.

"So Lois, what brings you by the shop? Can't imagine filing with Chloe was too exciting," Bobby mentioned, digging a cigarette out and lighting it between his lips.

"She wouldn't know, she spent most of it napping." Chloe hip-checked her. "She was just bored without Opie around to fill up her schedule."

Lois rolled her eyes. "Hey, it's not my fault the only interesting people I've met here are you and Opie."

"Never gonna live down interrogating you, am I?" Jax's voice called out as he walked up behind them, Opie at his side.

Lois turned to side-eye him. "Oh, and I'm  _your_  favorite person?"

He grinned. "You're all right, Lane."

She snorted, but turned her attention to Opie as he reached her, his hands settling on her hips.

"What're you doin' down here?" he wondered, brows furrowed.

"We need to work on your greetings," she snarked but wrapped her arms around his neck. "Chloe broke down and introduced me to the club. You wanna take over and show me around a little more?"

He nodded. "Sure."

As they walked off together, Jax took over her place at Chloe's side. "You're probably not going to see her 'til tomorrow."

Chloe shook her head. "I know Lois, she won't pass up a steak for anything."

He laughed under his breath.

"So how'd you get mixed up with a military brat anyway?" Bobby wondered.

"Did Piney or Jax fill you guys in?" She rolled her eyes. "You guys gossip like old ladies…"

"We're looking out for you," Jax argued.

"And how'd that pan out for you?"

He sighed. "Hey, she popped up out of nowhere and we still had the Mayans on our asses. It made sense to be suspicious."

She raised an eyebrow. "She's fifteen. If they're planning so far ahead that they're infiltrating high schools to plant teenagers, we have bigger issues."

Jax sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, gearing up for an argument about safety, she was sure.

"All right, you two, keep it tame," Chibs intervened, ruffling her hair. "C'mon, missy, I gotta make a beer run. You wanna tag along?"

She smiled up at him. "Sure."

Bobby dug out a set of keys from his pocket and tossed them over. Chibs caught them and turned them around, walking toward one of the vans parked against the fence. Chloe hopped into the passenger seat and buckled herself in. She fiddled with the radio until she found something she liked and brought her legs up to rest on the dashboard.

Chibs didn't bring up the situation until they were on the road. "So this Lois girl then… You two are good friends?"

"Besides Opie, she's my best friend," she agreed, nodding. "And yes, I know, Jax was suspicious and he raises a good point about not being too trusting, but I know Lois… And she's not working any angle here."

He looked over at her thoughtfully and nodded. "The Chloe seal of approval's a hard thing to come by…" he said. "What's she done to earn it?"

She chewed her lip a moment, considering the question. "Something happened… It was just a bad day and she didn't let it get to her… She supported me."

He hummed. "This have anything to do with your mum, then?"

She turned to him, slightly surprised.

He half-smiled. "When you were younger, I remember hearin' from the others that yer mum used to come in and drag you outta the club… Had a problem with Piney, didn't want you spendin' too much time around us criminals… But they don't say that anymore. Fact, they say they haven't seen Moira in some time."

Chloe turned her gaze back out the window. "She's been different since Gabe died…"

"How different?" he wondered, his voice sounding heavy and concerned.

She didn't reply right away because she wasn't sure what to say. She trusted Chibs. She had from the moment she met him. He, like Bobby, was of the few prospects that she had connected with immediately and hoped would stick around. When Chibs had transferred over from SAMBEL to SAMCRO, she'd been ecstatic. As they rode on together with him waiting patiently for her to explain, she was reminded of JT and how she would often confide in him and seek guidance. She wondered if Chibs could be that person for her now.

"She's been having episodes since I was a kid, where she just kind of… I don't know, it's like she blacks out. She detaches. They used to only last a few minutes but now it can go on as long as an hour… She doesn't  _do_ anything. She just sits and stares at nothing." She shifted in her seat and dropped her gaze to her lap. "But when Gabe died, she went to a doctor, she said she couldn't sleep, so he prescribed something for her… Not just for the sleeping, but the blackouts. But it didn't last long before she started using more than the recommended dose and then, when that didn't work, she started drinking…"

"Chloe…" he sighed.

"I  _know_. I know that what she's doing is wrong and unsafe and from an outsider's point of view, yes, it puts me in a  _really_  bad position. But…" She turned to look at him, her face full of pleading. "I hardly see her, honestly. I'm only at home to sleep and I usually go out my window to avoid seeing her even when I  _am_  home. I just, I can't leave her. She's sick and she's confused, but she's still my mom."

"If she's as far gone as you're sayin', she might not be yer mum anymore…"

She shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I won't abandon her."

"An' what about you?" he wondered, his brogue thickening. "Wha' about what  _you_  need?"

"I have the club," she said, smiling brightly to reassure him. "I—I have Lois and Opie and Jax. When I need somewhere to be, I can always come to the club. When I need  _anything_ , I know you guys are there."

"It isn't right. She's suppose t' be yer mother. She's supposed t' take care of ya."

"Chibs,  _please_ … I know that it sounds complicated, but she's just going through a rough patch. She's just grieving over Gabe."

He dragged a hand down his face and frowned. "And wha' about yer da'? Does he know about this? Any o' this?"

Her lips pursed in a line. "No. I haven't told him."

"Opie?"

"Opie knew about the episodes. I told him when I was a kid. But he doesn't know how far they've gone…"

"An' just how far have they gone?"

She sighed, dropping her head back against the seat rest. "It's nothing I can't handle."

"You're a tough girl, ya can handle a lot…" He turned into a parking lot behind the liquor store and put the van into park. Turning to face her, he said gently, "The important thing is knowin' ya don' have to handle it on yer own."

Chloe smiled, tipping her head as she looked up at him. "I know." She reached for him and squeezed his hand. "And I appreciate how much you care. But I can do this… If things get out of control, I'll leave. I promise."

"All right." He nodded. "If you need  _anything_ …"

"I won't hesitate to ask."

He gave her a quick grin before he moved to get out of the van, closing the topic of conversation. She appreciated that about Chibs. He cared, he offered to do whatever necessary to help her, but he also recognized that she was her own person and she would make her own decisions. She knew part of the reason was because he was a father, even if he didn't get to see his daughter Kerrianne, who was currently being raised by Chibs' wife and Jimmy O'Phelan in Belfast. He was a father at his heart and he showed that kindness to Chloe where he couldn't for Kerrianne.

He had a point about her mother, and she knew it. Moira was getting out of control and living life the way she was wasn't exactly good for her. But she wouldn't leave her mom; even if most of Chloe's life involved her father and the club, Moira was still her mother. Maybe it was just the card she was dealt, an odd sense of balance. Her mother was mentally absent, but she had a score of men who stood tall as her family. She would just have to take what she could get.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i know, i completely suck for taking so damn long to update. editing just takes so much focus so i always end up putting it off. i'll do my best to get the next chapter edited and up much quicker!
> 
> i hope you're all still reading and i'd love to know what you think! especially about david hale and the sweet chloe/jax moments! ;)
> 
> thanks so much for reading; please leave review, they're my lifeblood.
> 
> - **lee | fina**


	7. Chapter 7

[ ](http://dhfreak.tumblr.com/post/70059555649/daughter-of-anarchy-by-sarcasticfina-summary)

 

 **Part Seven**.

_April 13, 1994_

Chloe's new favorite hang-out was the pizza joint. She used the excuse of meeting Lois for lunch the first few times, but eventually dropped the pretense and just went by to see David. Of course, she usually had to order a slice or his boss would get upset, but she didn't mind. Half the time, her piece of pizza went stale on her plate while she sat with her feet up on an adjacent chair, passing the time talking to David about school and what kind of future they each wanted for themselves.

"So you don't plan to stick around Charming then?" he wondered as he mopped the floors. "You're going to run off, find a cushy job somewhere, and never look back?" There was no derision or skepticism in his voice, only thoughtful curiosity.

She shrugged, stirring the straw in her Coke. "I've always wanted to write and, no offense to Charming, but it doesn't boast anything near what I want in terms of a newspaper."

He grinned, nodding. "I get that."

"But you're happy here, right?" She rested her arms on the tabletop. "I mean, you see yourself as police chief, so you must like it here."

"Charming's always been home." He dunked his mop back in the pail and swished it around. "Maybe after high school, I'll try traveling a bit, take a year off, but… I'll end up in the police academy and I'll get stationed here."

She hummed, dropping her eyes to the tabletop. "I guess all that really matters is that you're happy. It doesn't matter  _where_ you are, just as long as you find that one thing that gets you."

He half-smiled at her. "Yeah. That about sums it up."

It was times like these that David Hale reminded her that she was a girl. He looked at her sometimes and she swore she felt it down to her toes. The clichéd butterflies started moving in her stomach and her heart hitched over a beat. He was handsome and smart and confident in who he was; she could appreciate that.

"Hey, Chloe, what, uh, what are you doing this weekend?"

Her brows rose slowly and she sat up a little straighter in her seat.

A bell rang then, drawing his attention. "Hale, delivery's ready. Get going. If you're late, I pay, which means  _you_  pay!"

He sighed, rolling his eyes up. "Sorry." He left the mop in the bucket and started toward the kitchen, reaching behind him to untie his apron. Grabbing the two pizza boxes waiting for him, he dug out his car keys and walked back toward her.

Glancing at the clock, she winced. "Uh, it's a lot later than I expected, so I'm going to head out," she told him, looping her thumbs in her jeans as she walked toward the door.

He hurried ahead to open it for her and she ducked under his arm, smiling.

Joining her on the sidewalk, he lingered next to his car. "So, I guess I'll see you around…"

She nodded. "Yeah, I've got plans tomorrow, but maybe I'll stop by later this week. Or, I might see you in school…"

"Yeah," he agreed happily. "We, uh, we should hang out some time. At school, I mean."

"Sure. I'd like that." She started backing up down the sidewalk and finally waved. "See ya."

"Bye." He reached for his car door and then paused, shaking his head. "Uh, do you need a ride? I mean, I've gotta drop this off first, but…"

"No, it's cool. I've gotta stop somewhere before I head home anyway, so…"

"Okay, sure. Maybe next time."

Smiling, she nodded, before finally turning on her heel and walking down the street. She had to stop in at the club and see her dad before heading back, which is one of the reasons she didn't want David to drop her off. Either he didn't know about her affiliation with SAMCRO or he didn't mind it, but she wasn't about to point it out to him just in case. Chloe knew she was playing with fire. He was the son of a judge who would be happy to sentence the whole club to a life sentence. If there was anyone she shouldn't be interested in, it was him, and she was sure Jax would be the first one to point it out. But Jax didn't know, and for right now, she and Hale were just friends, so the whole thing was a moot point.

Even if she was pretty sure he was just about to ask her out on a date.

Maybe then she'd have to rethink this whole thing. Until then, however, she was happy playing ignorant.

* * *

_May 9, 1994_

Chloe woke to a tapping at her window. Lifting her head from her pillow, she frowned, her eyes still closed. She rolled over onto her back and squinted around her room in sleepy confusion. It was quiet for a moment before she heard the tapping again. Throwing her blanket off, she stood from her bed and stumbled toward the window, running a hand through her hair, which had come loose from the braid she'd put it in before she'd gone to bed.

Pushing back the curtain, she found her brother standing outside, a lopsided grin and two fishing poles greeting her.

She smiled back and nodded. "Gimme ten minutes."

Chloe had, quite possibly, the fastest shower of her life before she changed into her jean shorts and a loose shirt. She climbed out the window, hopped down to the grass, and searched for Opie, spotting him just outside the fence surrounding her backyard. She hurried over to him, closed the gate behind her and reached for the second pole he carried. They stopped at a corner store to pick up a few snacks before they made their way down to the lake.

Chloe eyed him thoughtfully as she sipped her coffee. It was still early enough that the air was cool, the sun filtering through the trees in chunks. "So what brought on the sudden urge to go fishing anyway?" she wondered, bumping his elbow with hers.

He shrugged. "We don't hang out as much lately."

She half-smiled. "It's okay. I know you've got your hands full with Lois." She frowned. "And that wasn't a euphemism, so don't go there."

Opie laughed under his breath, ducking his head with amusement. "I know. Me and Lois are good." He looked over at her, his brow raised. "Doesn't mean I don't miss you."

"Ah, you know I'm always around…" She could see the dock in the distance and fiddled with her fishing pole absently. "So? How's the rebuild going with Jax?"

"Good." He blew out a long breath. "I think it's helping him, y'know? He doesn't talk about JT too much, but… He looks peaceful when we're working on it."

"I'm glad," she murmured, before chewing her lip. "Has he said anything about Clay?"

"You mean how Clay and Gemma are seeing each other?" He frowned. "No, I think he thinks it's just comfort."

"What do  _you_  think?"

He shook his head. "I don't know… I think JT and Clay were friends, brothers… And maybe this is how Clay tries to help him, y'know? Take care of his Old Lady, his kid, the club…"

She hummed, nodding. "Maybe."

They walked down to the end of the dock and started setting up with their poles. Opie had always been more introspective of the two of them; Chloe liked saying what was on her mind while he tended to hoard his thoughts until he felt like sharing them. So she wasn't surprised when the first fifteen minutes were spent in silence, their lines bobbing in the water, waiting for a bite.

"You ever wonder what it's going to be like?" he finally wondered. "Ten years from now, when I'm wearing a cut of my own…"

She turned to look at him. "How do you want it to be?"

"I don't know…" His brows hiked. "I never gave it much thought past earning the patch."

"Maybe because our wholes lives have been SAMCRO… you just kind of assume your future will be too."

He nodded, staring down at the water. "I think I'd be happy with that."

She smiled up at him. "It's in your blood, Ope."

He grinned at that.

Chloe watched her line as it rested, waiting, and wondered if she would be as happy in ten years if she was still around. Her smile faded some. She wasn't so sure she would. She wasn't sure her life was meant to unfold in Charming. Like she'd told David, she'd always imagined getting out, writing for a newspaper, and that just wasn't going to happen in her hometown.

She didn't tell Opie that though. Instead she focused on the here and now, firmly ignoring the voice that told her she couldn't do that forever.

* * *

_May 21, 1994_

"We gotta work on your aim, princess," Tig sighed, shaking his head disappointedly.

"I'd like to point out that throwing knives is not  _nearly_ as easy as throwing a dart," Chloe returned, rolling her eyes.

"It's all about balance. You've gotta take in how much the knife weighs before you throw it. It's not even, right? The handle's heavier." He reached out and adjusted her arm, lifting her elbow up.

"Why am I learning how to throw knives again?"

"Because it's better to take out an enemy from far away," he said, raising a dark eyebrow at her and making his bright blue eyes seem large and crazy.

She snorted. "Tig, you have a gun."

"Gun's run outta ammo." Shaking his head, he told her, "Just humor me, all right?"

"Fine."

"Okay. Now you see that target?" He pointed at the board he'd set up with a shooting range paper target attached to it, the general shape of a human drawn. "Only fatal shots. Go."

Chloe reared her arm back and threw. It landed outside the body. "I can't tell if I'm really bad at this or sincerely don't want to kill anybody…" she muttered.

"Well, maybe you don't need to look at it that way, huh?" He picked up one of the knives and ran his fingers down the serrated edge. "Sometimes, you got a guy comin' at you and you don't have time to think. It's between you and him. If he gets to you, you're  _done_ ," he said with finality. "So you either take him down first or you say your Hail Mary's, may you rest in peace." He drew a cross over his chest and bowed his head in a short nod.

"Self-defense," she said, chewing her lip.

"Hey, I ain't here to teach you to become a killin' machine, all right? You're gonna be the only innocent one of us left if I have any say." He stepped behind her and squeezed her shoulders. "But throwin' you to the dogs ain't on the books either." He lifted her arm again. "So put my conscience to rest and kill some paper."

Chloe inhaled deeply and looked at the target in front of her. Tigs had a point. While, for the most part, her life wasn't dangerous, she lived right on the edges of it becoming just that. The older she got was how much more a target she became. That was proven when the Mayans tried to shoot her down to send a message. She wasn't a little girl anymore and, if she didn't know how to defend herself, she could become a liability.

Considering all of his lessons, Chloe focused, more intent on her target than ever before. When she let that knife fly, it was a message, to herself and to those who might try to harm her or those she loved. She would not go down without a fight.

It struck the human outline right in the face.

* * *

_June 24, 1994_

Chloe wasn't sure what they were doing.

She and David had spent the last three Fridays together, going to the movies, bowling, and she even convinced him to try karaoke with her, despite the fact that he was a  _terrible_ singer. She hadn't told anybody she was hanging out with him, in part because she wasn't sure where it was going but also because she knew that nobody would approve. Opie was busy with Lois, so it made it easy; she never had to explain what she was doing or where she was because he hadn't noticed that she wasn't around. Jax too was busy, between working on his dad's bike and dating Tara. And as far as the club was concerned, Chloe came and went as she pleased.

David was walking her home; they were walking close enough that the backs of their hands kept brushing and it sent a thread of energy up her arm each time. Butterfly wings were beating up a storm in her stomach.

She could see her house in the distance, all the lights out, and she slowed her steps a little. Reaching up, she tucked her long hair behind her ears and turned to face him, walking sideways. "So I was thinking, maybe next Friday we could—"

The second time Chloe was ever kissed, it was with a boy she  _wanted_ to kiss her.

David bent forward, pressing his lips to hers, and it was everything that first kiss wasn't. It was soft and warm and she could feel his hands cupping her face. His lips moved slowly over hers and she felt her entire body lean into it, her hands around his forearms, thumbs absently stroking his skin. When he finally pulled back, her heart was racing, and she was staring up at him with wide eyes, her brows lifted.

He grinned rather goofily and let out a faint laugh. "I've wanted to do that since I met you."

She beamed back and bit her lip. "Me too."

The third kiss was even better.

* * *

_July 4, 1994_

Chloe loved the fourth of July; it was one big party. Teller-Morrow was closed for business, the lot was filled with familiar faces, and the delicious scent of meat on the barbecue infused every breath. Tables were covered in dishes; potato and macaroni salads, chips, corn on the cob, canned beets, fruit platters, and desserts. Clusters of condiments, paper plates and cups, and cutlery were crowded on either end.

Bobby was wearing a giant red, white, and blue fabric top hat on his head while he walked around handing out candy to all the kids. She couldn't help but choke on a laugh every time she looked at him.

Opie sat in a circle of chairs, laughing at a story Chibs and Piney were telling. Lois sat on his lap, a plate piled high with food in her hands. She slapped Opie's hand every time he reached for something, but he just grinned at her and popped whatever he'd stolen into his mouth.

Clay was manning the barbecue, like usual, only this time he had Gemma with him, her hands on his hips as she rested her head against his arm and said something to him, winking when he grinned down at her. Chloe still wasn't sure what she thought about that. She couldn't judge; she didn't know what either of them were going through. But the loss of JT still seemed so fresh.

A cheer went up that drew her attention and she looked over to see Jax walking up to the circle-group, shaking hands and nodding his head in hello. He had a couple bags of ice in his hand and pointed a thumb behind him. As he was walking past her, he tossed her one of the bags. "Here, catch."

Rolling her eyes, she caught it in her arms and followed him over to the coolers.

He knelt down before reaching over and grabbing the knife out of her ankle holster. "You mind?" he asked, waving it up at her.

"Don't let Tigs see you, that's firmly for self-defense and not menial tasks."

He rolled his eyes and used the knife to cut open the bag of ice, tipping it over into the cooler. When it was empty, he reached an arm up for the one she was holding and repeated the process. He stirred the ice around and brought the drinks up closer to the top before he wiped her knife off on his jeans and put it back in its holster.

Standing, he brushed his hands off. "You hungry?"

She nodded and joined him by the barbecue. "Where's Tara?"

He shrugged. "Probably with her dad… I didn't invite her."

She raised an eyebrow at him but didn't say anything, instead grabbing a burger bun and opening it. She took each condiment from him as he finished with it, except the relish which he put down without offering, well aware of how much she disliked it.

"Tara doesn't fit here," he told her, unwrapping a couple slices of cheese, dropping one on his bun and one on hers as he looked up at her. "Some people, they get this life, want it even, others don't…"

"Don't you think you're making that decision for her though? You've never actually introduced her to anyone here…"

"She met my mom," he dismissed, shrugging.

"Listen, it's your love life, so you do what you want, but… If you really care about her, you have to give her a chance."

He turned to look at her, his head tipped. "You remember when you met Lois and you didn't tell her about SAMCRO…?"

She nodded.

"And you held onto that for a while, kind of lived in that grey area in between. Like having two lives where, with her, you were just some normal kid, but you had this whole other side she didn't know about…" He stared at her searchingly. "You lucked out with Lois, she didn't mind the other side, she supports it… But I know Tara, and she's not going to get it. And the thing is… This is me. This club, it's who I am, who I'll always be. I won't change that; not for her, not for anyone."

There were times that Jax looked fierce; he looked beyond his years. And this was one of those times. Loyalty was huge to Jax and his whole life had been a lead up to becoming a Son. She understood what that meant for him and she didn't doubt that he would wear the cut with pride. But, while loyalty for the club ran deep in her veins, she was also loyal to individual people too. Opie came first and foremost in her life; it was a simple fact. Next was Piney who, yes, was a founding member of SAMCRO, but he was her dad first. And then there was Jax, who she'd known her whole life. Sure, they had their rivalry when they were kids, mostly on her part due to jealousy, but Jax was a huge part of her life, far outweighing her ties to the club itself.

"The only thing that matters is that you're happy. Whatever you do and whoever you do that with, it doesn't matter. You wanna run away to the circus and tame lions, I'll support you. But make sure you're doing things for the right reason."

He cracked a grin and nodded. "I know." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and walked her toward the grill. "You're one of the good ones, Chlo." He kissed her temple. "Y'know that?"

"It's my top job skill on my resume," she said with a smirk.

He laughed under his breath, shaking his head, and only released her as they stopped in front of Clay, who loaded them up with a pair of steaming hot hamburger patties.

The rest of the day was spent with her favorite people. They sat down in the circle and wasted the day away with laughter. When the sun finally set, Bobby and Opie broke out the fireworks and Chloe sat with Lois and Jax to watch the show.

It wasn't until much later that what Jax had said about two worlds really sunk in and she wondered what it meant for her relationship with David. She fell asleep still smiling over the high of her day but reality was trying to set in and she was no match for it.

* * *

_July 9, 1994_

When Chloe met Wayne Unser, he was leaving church. And not the kind of church she thought of when police involved. It wasn't a white building surrounded with bright green grass with a preacher inside that talked about virtue and the laws of god. He was leaving the club meeting room, where Clay sat at the end of the table with a grin like the devil and a cigar between his lips, curls of smoke coming off it.

Unser paused in the doorway as he saw her, sitting on the bar as she watched Jax and Opie play a game of pool and waited to play winner.

"You're a little young to be in here, aren't you?" Unser asked, looking between her and the boys. "All of you are."

"I'd make the clichéd 'age ain't nothing but a number' comeback, but I think you get the gist." She hopped down from the bar and held a hand out for him. "I'm Chloe."

"Chief Unser," he said, shaking her hand, bowing his head a little in hello. "You, uh, you kids enjoyin' your summer?"

"It's a real riot," Jax drawled, eyeing Unser sideways.

It was no secret that the Sons and the police force weren't buddy-buddy, but then, she also knew that Clay was looking to find a way to get the force on their side, and corruption was apparently their ally. Chloe had never grown out of her habit of listening in on what happened at church. Curiosity was her weakness. So when she overheard Clay talking about giving Unser a loan to buy a trucking company, she knew it was only a matter of time before she met the chief of police. And, while she liked to reserve judgment on people, especially considering the corruption of Unser meant good business for the club, she couldn't help but think of David and how much he admired the police force and wanted to be a part of something so upstanding.

"You kids stay out of trouble," he told them, his eyes darting away as he moved toward the door.

Chloe watched him go, his shoulders hunched; she wondered if he knew he'd just made a deal with the devil, and if he was prepared to pay the long-term consequences. Sometimes, as much as she loved Clay like family, she wondered what would have happened if JT were still around, and if they would have gone this far.

"Chloe?"

She turned her head to find the boys looking at her, brows raised. "You're up," Opie said, holding out a cue.

Taking it from him, she moved to the table to play Jax, putting Unser and the whole thing behind her. She was starting to wonder if denial was just a state of being nowadays.

* * *

_August 5, 1994_

A week after Chloe's fifteenth birthday, she realized her life was split up into separate columns, and she wasn't exactly sure she liked it.

On her birthday, she spent it with the club, Lois, her brother, and Jax, like she always had. There was cake and presents and music loud enough it made her ears ring. The next day, she got together with David, who took her out for a movie and gave her a cupcake with a little candle on top. It was sweet and nice and she loved every second of it. But as much as she enjoyed it, she realized he would never be a part of her regular life. He would never be invited to anything that happened at the club. He'd never be trusted or accepted. Unlike Lois, he wouldn't be brought into the fold to sit among them and share their beer or their food. He would be the ultimate outsider because of his family ties. And worse, he didn't even know it.

She contemplated this as they sat under the cover of a tree in an empty grass field just outside of town. She was lying on the blanket he brought along with him, staring up at the sky, fingering the dog tags she wore when she realized that being with David didn't just mean lying to the club, but lying to him too. She turned over onto her side and watched him, studiously distracted. If there was one thing she liked about him, it was that he didn't mind the quiet. He could happily sit and read a book with her right next to him. He liked novels that had to do with crime or the legal system, she noticed. It was dry reading sometimes, but he had his preferences. Reaching over, she pushed the book up to read the title on the front. She smiled lightly; another John Grisham book. He had to be David's favorite writer.

Deciding to just jump in, head first, she said, "You've never asked about my family… I don't think I've told you anything except that I have a brother."

Instead of being annoyed at the interruption, he simply folded down a page to mark his place and put his book aside. "I'm sure there's a lot we haven't told each other." He moved to lay next to her and bumped her shoulder with his. "The fun part's finding out."

She ducked her eyes and turned to him, resting her chin on his arm. "Yeah, but my family isn't… normal."

"What's normal anymore?" he mused.

Her lips quirked at the corners. "My dad…" she started, licking her lips. "My dad is Piney Winston… He's SAMCRO."

David blinked and then slowly shook his head in confusion. "But your last name is Sullivan."

"It's my step-dad's last name. My mom had it changed when I was a baby; she didn't want me to be affiliated with Piney… She didn't want others to know."

His brow furrowed. "My dad's put half of SAMCRO behind bars at one time or another… He's the one who sentenced Lenny Janowitz to life in Stockton; he killed  _three_  ATF agents..."

"Allegedly," she murmured.

He frowned at her, his brows hiked.

"Fine, so he probably did," she admitted, rolling her eyes. "Off the record."

"There's no record here." He stared at her. "Chloe, SAMCRO is made up of some the worst criminals to ever come to Charming… Most of them are murderers."

Sighing, she pulled back from him. "All I'm hearing is a lot of speculation and assumptions here… All of it directed at men who have been my family since birth." She pushed to sit up, facing him, her elbows on her knees. "Listen, David, I can't expect you to understand… You come from a family who, at worst, has probably had a parking ticket or two. And I'm not going to whitewash what the Sons have done, but I need you to know that they're my family. They're my  _history_."

He mirrored her, sitting in front of her with his head bowed. He ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "Why are you telling me this?"

She smiled faintly. "Because I like you. I  _really_ do. But we come from two  _completely_  different worlds and, maybe I thought that could work at first, but now…"

He inhaled deeply. "Just… Just wait. You're putting a lot on me here and maybe I'm not handling it the best way." He stared her in the eye. "Your dad is SAMCRO… You—You grew up around them. You're not saying they're  _good_ people, but… they were good to  _you_ … Is that about the gist?"

"I'm saying I won't excuse what they've done, but I know them beyond what a rap sheet says and they're not just what they've been charged with."

He dragged his hands down his face and nodded. "Okay… Okay, I— I can deal with this. This isn't… I mean it's not like  _you've_ been charged with anything. You just… have an interesting group of friends."

Her lips twitched. "That's one way of putting it."

He reached for her and took her hands, squeezing them in his. "Chloe, I like you too. And I don't want to ruin that by making any assumptions. So, maybe our lives are different, but… They fit pretty well when we're together."

Slowly, she grinned, and nodded agreeably. Pushing up to her knees, she leaned over and lingered just short of his mouth. She stared up into his blue eyes a moment before deciding it was worth it and then she pressed her lips to his and thought they really did fit after all.

* * *

_August 20, 1994_

The noise was driving her nuts. Her mother was having one of her fits, and not one of Moira's quiet stare-into-nothing fits, but her loud, ranting to herself fits. It was late and Chloe had been trying to sleep, but she just kept tossing and turning in her bed, trying to drown everything else out. A pillow covering her head could only do so much, however. Throwing off her blanket, she pulled on a pair of pants, having only gone to bed in a loose t-shirt and underwear, and quickly put on her sneakers. She hopped out her bedroom window and hurried across her overgrown backyard, slipping out the gate quiet as could be. She walked down the alley behind her house silently, wincing as she heard the crash from her house, followed by a holler. Earlier that evening, Moira had already taken a bat to the living room stereo and tipped her television off its position on the dresser, shouting threats to nobody in particular. It was only every once in a while that she'd mention Chloe or Piney or shout for Gabe.

Moira wasn't a bad person, she wasn't even all that violent usually, and in her entire life, Chloe had never once been physically hurt by her mother. But as time went on, she was starting to wonder if it was just a matter of waiting for the day it reached that point. The Moira she knew as a child was not the one she lived with. She avoided her now and kept her bedroom door locked at all times. She feared what lengths Moira would go to when she was having a fit and whether she would be her mother's target.

Mixing her medication with alcohol wasn't working for her anymore, not that it ever worked to begin with, and so Moira had turned to something stronger. Chloe had seen the coke lines on the table and paused at first. This was new and this was bad. But as much as the alarm bells were  _screaming_ in her head, she didn't call for help. For some reason that she couldn't quite define, ratting her mother out to her father felt like the wrong thing to do. Maybe if Gabe was still alive, Moira wouldn't be like this, or at the very least she could have told him what was going on and he would have gotten her help; her step-dad was just that kind of guy. But Chloe knew that if she told Piney that her mom was using, shit would hit the fan. Not only would he and SAMCRO kill whoever was dealing to Moira, but she'd be out of her mom's house so fast her head would spin.

Living with Moira was nothing special and she would almost rather live anywhere else. But Piney was a bachelor and he was living it up as much as he could. Not to mention, as much respect as she had for SAMCRO, they weren't exactly equipped to raise a fifteen year old girl. She'd grown up around them as it was and it probably wasn't the best environment then. While there was always a room open at the club for her to occupy, there were problems with that too, like being woken up at all hours thanks to the club's non-stop partying. More than once she'd walked inside to find people passed out, half-naked, on the pool table or the floor. It wasn't exactly inspiring.

Still, Moira was getting worse and Chloe was running out of options.

Making her way down the alley, she cut through a hole in the chain-link fence that surrounded an abandoned children's park, where the jungle gym was long rusted and due to be torn down. She bypassed the park benches where, once upon a time, her mother sat to watch her play, and instead climbed onto one of the abandoned picnic tables. The old wood was stiff, paint peeling off of it, scratchy against her shirt and skin as she laid down on top of it, face up, arms tucked behind her head, facing the starry night sky above. The air felt cool on her too warm skin; it was a welcome relief against the summer heat.

She tried to figure out how long it would take before Moira's high would peter out and she'd pass out in her bed or on the couch, but she couldn't be sure how much coke Moira had on her or if she'd just take another hit to keep going. It was easier when she was drinking; at least then she'd usually just pass out, her movements often sluggish. On coke, she was energized and quick to react and get violent, even if there was no one to direct that violence at.

Chloe snorted to herself, realizing she was wishing for a lesser evil rather than no evil at all.

Sighing, she rubbed the heels of her hands against her eyes before glaring above.

"You really think you should be out here alone, Little Winston?" a familiar voice called out.

Chloe's lips twitched. Unbelievable. Talk about timing...

Jax came swaggering into view, offering her a grin as he did. The street lamps that offered little to brighten the park highlighted him in his usual baggy t-shirt and jeans.

"I've got Darla, I think we can handle it," she returned lightly.

With a snort, Jax took a seat on the bench of the picnic table, resting his elbows on the top. "So what happens if someone sneaks up on you? How quick are you going to get to your ankle, huh?"

"And who's prowling around some abandoned kid's park this late at night anyway?"

He grinned, raising an eyebrow. "I think I'm proof enough that you don't know who's out there."

She rolled her eyes. "Save the 'you don't know what's lurking in the dark' speech, all right? I'm not really into a lecture right now."

His amusement faded and he looked her over. "Should I be calling Opie in?" he wondered.

She shook her head. There was a reason she didn't tell Opie how far things had regressed with Moira. Her brother was a worrier and if he couldn't fix it, he'd always be concerned for her safety. It was better that he didn't know.

"A girl can't get some fresh air without calling in the cavalry?" she tried, infusing a little lighthearted humor into her voice.

His eyes narrowed knowingly. "Snark's been your defense since you learned what sarcasm was," he mused. "What's up? Something happen?"

She pursed her lips.

Chloe had known Jax her whole life. A fact that sometimes bit her in the ass since he happened to know her entirely too well. As much as she disliked it, though, she also knew she'd lucked out. He was a good guy, loyal too, and the best friend Opie could ever ask for. Truth be told, he was one of her best friends. Lois had mostly filled that spot, with a special place for Opie that could never be taken, but if she really reflected on her life, Jax had been there through it all and he'd played a significant part.

"You ever wonder about life outside of Charming?" she wondered.

He stared at her a long moment. "You mean the next county over, or are we talking big picture, whole country, different continent kind of thing?"

She half-smiled. "I mean anything outside of small town, gun running, drug dealing, SAMCRO allegiances."

"Greener pastures," he murmured. "You know, that stuff's not just in Charming. That's a whole world kind of thing, just in different ways, down darker alleys, not as publically accepted…"

She scoffed. "I don't think we  _publically_ accept it here. I think we manipulate each other into doing what we need… One step ahead, that's all we need to keep the game going in our favor."

"Yeah? And who's 'we'?"

She frowned, her eyes falling. "I've asked myself that… I might not wear the cut, but I'm SAMCRO to a degree. By blood, birthright, hell, I earned it growing up around all of it…" She chewed her lip. "But what if I don't want to be?"

He stayed silent a long moment, and she wasn't sure if it was to let her continue her thought or for him to gather his. Maybe it was both. She had a lot of thinking to sort through and Jax was the type of guy who didn't just say the first thing that came to mind.

"Moira get pissed at you for hanging out at the club again?" he finally wondered.

Smiling bitterly, she sighed. "If only…  _Those_ were the good old days…"

"Good? If I remember it right, you fought tooth and nail against her… You're telling me she quit bugging you about it? That's good news, isn't it?"

"She always finds something…"

"You don't have to take that from her, you know."

Her eyebrow quirked. "I didn't take you for naïve."

He scowled. "I'm not."

She turned to look at him. "Where do I go, Jax? Huh? I take a room in that back of the club? I camp out on Opie's floor? I kick Bobby off the pool table so I can sleep there instead?" She stared at him searchingly. "I have  _nowhere_ … My mom might not be the best case scenario here, but she's all I've got… I have a room, a roof over my head, and three years,  _tops_."

His brow furrowed. "And then what?"

She paused, not sure how much she wanted to tell him. He was trustworthy, he always had been, but Opie was his best friend, and she hadn't even told her brother what she had planned for after graduation. Still, looking at Jax's sincerely interested face, Chloe couldn't help but want to tell him about the ideas she'd had since she was thirteen. "Kansas," she said.

He blinked. "You wanna be a farmer?"

She laughed. "No. Metropolis, Kansas. They've got a newspaper there, world renowned.  _The Daily Planet_ ," she said reverently.

"So…" He shook his head. "You're going to pack up and head out for big city life, work at some newspaper?"

"If everything turns out right, yeah…" She nodded. "I applied for an internship last summer, they told me to keep trying, said I had  _'potential.'_ "

He nodded, turning his head for a moment, staring off into the distance. He opened his mouth a few times, but didn't say anything. A few minutes passed with her simply staring at the sky, mentally drawing figures with the stars.

"What about Ope?" he finally wondered. "What happens to him when you leave?"

"He's a big boy. He'll be fine without me." She turned to look at him. "What's he need his little sister hanging around for anyway? You don't think I've done enough tagging along?"

His jaw ticked and he turned his gaze away. "You know what Opie's like. He values family."

"Piney will still be here, and he's got Lois…" she reminded. "Who knows, maybe in a few years, I'll have a sister-in-law…"

"It's not the same…" He shook his head. "You two grew up together, you were his shadow half the time… Hell, he's been freaking out about graduation. He's thinking of failing a year so he can come back and keep an eye on you."

She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Do me a favor and convince him not to." She looked over at him and bit her lip. "I'm not going to convince him to follow me out to the city if that's what you're worried about… I couldn't even if I tried. Opie belongs out here; he  _fits_ here… He was always supposed to be SAMCRO."

He licked his lips, grinding his teeth a bit as he started getting worked up. "So what are you supposed to be, huh? Some city girl writing for a paper?"

"Careful, Jackie-boy…" She sat herself up and turned to face him. "I'm going to start to think you'll miss me."

He watched her, digging a pack of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket. "Ope will miss you," he muttered. "I'll miss teasing you." He reached up and tugged on her hair.

She slapped his hand away and glared at him.

Tucking a cigarette between his lips, he lit it, inhaling deeply. She watched as the tip burned bright and smoke curled out from the corners of his upturned lips. He offered her a drag but she shook her head, her nose scrunching up with distaste. She'd tried smoking when she was thirteen and it never took, a surprise considering how much smoke she'd inhaled over the years, hanging around the club house, where cigars and cigarettes always found an eager set of lungs.

"So? You going to tell me what's got you out here, waxing poetic about life after high school?"

"Just my mom… Her episodes are getting worse," she explained vaguely.

"Worse how?"

Her lips quirked up and she turned to look at him. "Why? You going to ride up on your hog, save me from my terrible home life, and make me your Old Lady?"

He took another long drag, watching her thoughtfully. "You want me to?" he wondered, his teeth holding his cigarette in place.

She scoffed and tipped her face up to the sky. "In your dreams, Teller."

He stared at her profile a while and then turned. Ash fell from the tip of his cigarette that he absently wiped off his jeans. Exhaling a long cloud of smoke, he finally said, "Going to the city, writing for that paper… That'll make you happy?"

She smiled slowly. "Yeah… I can't think of anything that would make me happier."

He nodded, staring out into the dark park. "You should do it then."

She directed her eyes toward him curiously.

"You're smart, you got a chance out there, doin' something big… You should take it. Run with it, wherever it takes you."

Her heart felt lighter than it had in years as his words resonated. "You promise you'll take care of Opie?"

He grinned at her. "You know it."

And she did, really. If there was anyone who cared about her brother as much as she did, it was Jax. But it felt good to hear it all the same, and to know that at least one person supported a dream she'd always had. One day she was going to leave Charming and she would work at The Daily Planet. She just knew it. And when she did, the first person she was sending her first byline was Jackson Teller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i suck, i'm sorry this took so long. i hope you enjoyed this update anyway.
> 
> in regards to david, i think he's a sweet guy, kind of a jimmy olsen type, and chloe's curious in part because he's so unlike the men she's known in her life. i view david as more of a puppy dog love. they're young and like each other, but it's not an epic love of any kind. they respect each other a lot and that's why chloe let him know that she was related to samcro. unlike with lois, she won't be inviting him into that crowd, she's not going to be telling him any history on them. it was really more of a warning and a way for her to feel things out on whether that was a deal breaker. which gets touched on more next chapter.
> 
> a number of people have asked me if jax knows how he feels about chloe, or if he's aware that they have something between them. and i think this is the chapter that really shows he does. when he realizes chloe has dreams beyond charming, it makes him pause, makes him think, and he comes to the conclusion that he needs to support her. by loving her, he knows that he'll need to let her go, possibly even before he ever even really has her. at least to his frame of thinking. so i'd say, at this point, jax is fully aware that chloe isn't just a friend and she was never going to be only a friend. but he's also aware that life and circumstance might not support that (yet).
> 
> so yeah, i hope you enjoyed it, i'd love to know what you think. i'm really sorry about the long wait on chapters, i really appreciate you all sticking with me on this and reviewing. it really encourages me to keep coming back to this story when i see how much you all enjoy it.
> 
> thank you,
> 
> \- **lee | fina**


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